


Lone Wolf and Pup

by BubbleBakerPenguinPie



Series: The Life and Times of Maggie Barnes [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Babies, Babyfic, Caretaking, Fluff, Gen, Human Experimentation, I know I promised fluff at first but somehow it turned out rather on the angsty side, Kidfic, Parenthood, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Post-TWS, Protective Bucky Barnes, Road Trips, actually I don't know what I expected, catch me if you can - Freeform, cross-country pursuit, revenge trip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-03
Updated: 2015-03-15
Packaged: 2018-03-04 19:55:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 21
Words: 26,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3086816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BubbleBakerPenguinPie/pseuds/BubbleBakerPenguinPie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>//Despite the fact that during the course of his research he had handled sensitive materials relating directly to the asset codenamed 'Winter Soldier',  Dr Whateley had never considered that the assassin would come after him specifically.</p><p>"Oh," said Arnold Whateley, "Damn."<br/>"Yes," The Soldier replied calmly, "You are. And since your fate is sealed, you won't mind answering a few questions...//</p><p>The asset hitherto known as the 'Winter Soldier' has broken free from HYDRA, now he seeks to piece together the person he was and to take down those who made him a weapon. In his search for clues and revenge, he expected to come across many things, except this...</p><p>(aka how Bucky Barnes became an accidental single parent and Sharon Carter got her own 'Catch Me If You Can' experience)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: Project M, Discontinued

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, I'm super new here, and by new I mean both this website and writing for this fandom. If the vague and admittedly uninspired summary managed to reel you in I shall consider that a success already. That being said, I hope you find this story engaging.  
> If there are issues with the tagging or warnings, like something should be mentioned that isn't, please tell me. I want this to be a pleasurable and safe reading experience for everyone.  
> Of course, feedback that isn't about formalities is also welcome.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A former HYDRA scientist gets what's coming to him and James 'Bucky' Barnes makes an unexpected discovery and a rash decision

Dr Arnold Whateley was generally not a tardy man, and also one possessed of good judgment, if not in the ethical or moral sense then at least insofar as to preserving himself. But everyone has their off days. It was nevertheless decidedly unlucky for Dr Whateley that his off day had to coincide with the Winter Soldier finding him.  
Dr Whateley had held out longer than was in hindsight advisable. He'd thought himself safe, being the head of a sidelined HYDRA research division, highly covert and highly illegal, of course. He'd been so assured in his assumed security that the exposing and subsequent fall of HYDRA just two months prior had done little to unnerve him, much less abandon the project he'd so carefully built up over the past four years of his life. It was only after the funding had dried up that Dr Whateley saw himself inclined to secure his assets, activate his fake identity and jump ship. It was a shame for all that research, but his findings (though not what they had set out to achieve), he consoled himself, had been promising and could open up many doors for him, not just with HYDRA. The fact that the current subjects had had to be discarded weighed almost nothing against the plethora of possibilities Dr Whateley saw opening up for himself.

  
Despite the fact that during the course of his research he had handled sensitive materials relating directly to the asset codenamed 'Winter Soldier', Dr Whateley had never considered that the assassin would come after him specifically. Like most, he had assumed that the Soldier had gone down with the Helicarriers or otherwise been taken care of afterwards. HYDRA didn't like loose threads after all. It came therefore as a rather exponential shock to him to find said Winter Soldier seated comfortably at his kitchen counter, leafing through his research files. His hair was shorter than it had been the previous year, when Whateley had extracted the genetic material required for his research project from the man himself, and his beard was denser, and also he was now undeniably awake and alert, staring Whateley down with cold eyes that betrayed no sign of weakness.

"Oh," said Arnold Whateley, "Damn."

"Yes," The Soldier replied calmly, "You are. And since your fate is sealed, you won't mind answering a few questions, and truthfully."

At this he pushed himself up from the seat and produced a blade from his sleeve. Whateley quickly discerned that there was no way on earth that he could outrun the Winter Soldier, let alone fight him and hope to live to tell the tale. With a heavy sigh, he slumped back against the dinner table, leaning onto its edge. The Soldier would kill him, which would be unpleasant. On the off chance that he did not, Whateley's involvement and methods would be exposed or stray HYDRA contingents would wipe him off the face of the earth. None of these options was in any way appealing. Locking eyes with the man whose DNA he had handled so confidently and freely for the past year, Whateley resigned himself to the only option left to him, poked loose the cyanide capsule hidden in his tooth, and bit down hard. What happened from now on was not his problem anymore.

The Winter Soldier looked down at Whateley's slumped corpse disdainfully. There was nothing to be done about it now, but it annoyed him to have been thus outmaneuvered. At least this gave him access to a fake ID, credit cards, stack of cash and a large dark grey SUV. Not to speak of the volumes of files the man had stored in his house, all neatly packed away into briefcases. Not that he wouldn't have gotten all that anyway, but he had hoped to get a few answers out of Whateley first. With a sigh, he set about the next steps of his plan, moved forward now that his planned interrogation fell flat.

Almost three hours later and he was driving down the freeway in the late HYDRA scientist's car. He'd scrounged what else he could from the house, some clothing, blankets and even decent amount of food, repurposed Whateley's fake papers to suit him instead, and from the files he'd gotten the address of the place that had served as the research facility - a private fertility clinic. He wasn't quite sure what to expect there. The files at Whateley's house had been rather vague on that. All he knew was that this particular division had been tinkering with his DNA somehow, maybe trying to extricate Zola's formula from his cells to make more like him. Perhaps they had aimed to improve upon the serum, even. Surely a whole army of genetically enhanced fighters could be useful to HYDRA in some way.

  
The place was uncharacteristically remote, and though not completely abandoned was empty due to the late hour. Dismantling the security system and sneaking inside didn't prove difficult, and he found Whateley's office quickly. While searching the room for hidden drawers he chanced upon a door instead that led to the part of the building that was concealed from the general public, the part where HYDRA had conducted their no doubt unethical experiments under the name of Project Minotaurus. He inched forward slowly, ready to take on anything or anyone that might attack him. The way led him down and underground. Nobody seemed to have been here in the last few days, at least not long enough to keep the dust from collecting on the surfaces. He found no further files in any of the rooms, but kept looking into each one, until he heard a noise.  
He could have sworn he heard a ...sniffle. His enhanced senses definitely picked up on something, and he moved cautiously toward the door from behind which the sound originated. The door budged easily after he'd picked the lock, and inside he was greeted by a dim greenish light and a row of half a dozen boxes pushed against the far wall. The boxes were transparent, about the size of two shoe boxes placed next to one another and each was outfitted with its own IV lines and a slim manila folder tucked into a holder on the side. Suddenly anxious, he lifted his flashlight and stepped closer.

Only to physically recoil. Lying in the boxes were infants. Six tiny human babies, unmoving with papery, translucent skin, IV needles sticking out of their little arms. He had to suppress the urge to retch, heaving a number of deep breaths while trying not to collapse on the floor. The room was momentarily spinning around him and the six little boxes containing dead babies.

And then there was that sniffle again, and a very quiet rustling sound, and he willed his heartbeat to slow and steeled himself. The sound came from the second box to the right. Inching closer, he found big blue eyes staring up at him warily. The baby's eyes were glassy, but followed his movements closely. He snatched the file from the side of the box and flicked through it. Female, born almost five months prior to that day, which put her birthday at December 18th 2013, subject number 823746#5, some pages worth of medical data that he could not make sense of. She was clad only in a thin diaper, and it wasn't precisely warm in those underground rooms. She sniffled again and shivered, and before he knew what he was doing he had shrugged off his jacket and wrapped it around her small, frail body. The baby was too weak to even cry out as she was lifted and nestled into the crook of his arm, the IV needle swiftly pulled out. Having seen enough, he checked that the five other infants were indeed no longer alive and stuffed what little files he had been able to recover into his backpack, made sure the baby was still breathing, and took off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooooooo what do you think?


	2. Maggie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What do you when you have just accidentally and rashly adopted a small child? And are basically a fugitive on a revenge/self-discovery trip?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should perhaps note that know basically nothing about babies. I mean I researched a bit but that's not the same, is it?  
> Also, what is formatting?

The next steps he took were improvised, seeing as he had expected to find many things down in that HYDRA facility, except what he'd ended up finding. Once back outside, he'd bundled the baby up warmly in the blankets he'd brought from Whateley's house. She'd dozed off, and from what he could tell she was malnourished and was running a bit of a fever, but otherwise fine enough. He drove a few miles to a nearby pharmacy and dropped local law enforcement an anonymous hint that the fertility clinic had been broken into. He'd left the secret passage wide open for the police to find, leaving hints to lead them to the back room, and no doubt they'd soon discover Whateley's body too. There was nothing more he could do for those dead infants who had been bred from his DNA for whatever nefarious means. But he could try to save this little one. He guessed that the children had been supplied via the IV drips, and just been left to die when the facility was given up by HYDRA. She was a fighter to have survived. In a way, they had both been created by HYDRA, with the crucial difference that the baby was an innocent, unlike him. The least he could do was try to save her, he reasoned, and entered the pharmacy.  
There were no other patrons, and only one clerk, a young black woman with elegantly sloped eyebrows whose name tag informed him that her name was Laurie. He shifted the baby in his arms and walked up to the counter, putting on a beleaguered expression, not that it took much effort for him to do so. Laurie smiled sympathetically as she saw him approach, and it occurred to him that his bedraggled appearance and obvious lack of sleep suddenly made a lot more sense to any observer. In espionage, covers were everything. He decided to go with the flow of the young clerk's assumptions about him and the baby. The less he revealed of the factual truth the better for all involved, he reasoned.

"Good evening sir, how can I help you?" Laurie smiled kindly, directing a beaming smile at the baby who was just now waking up again and looking around with an air of bewilderment.

"My ...um, my daughter has a cold. Do you have anything for that?" he started meekly, and the baby chose this moment to sneeze softly and let out a languishing wail as of to confirm his statement.

"She's five months old." he added as an afterthought. Laurie looked down at the infant sympathetically.

"Poor little darling, being sick sucks, right? Okay, follow me. I know just what you need." Laurie led him to a nearby aisle and fished a small packet off the shelf, explaining how to dose the medicine.

"If it takes longer than three days to get better you should definitely take her to a doctor though." Laurie finished her explanations, and he thanked her, shifting the squirming infant in his arms for the umpteenth time in the last few minutes. Laurie regarded them silently for a moment, debating inwardly with herself before coming to a conclusion.

"You haven't had her for that long, have you? It kinda shows. You seem more than a bit overwhelmed, no offense."

He shook his head despondently, allowing the strain of the last two months and this day in particular to finally catch up to him. Time to try out the cover story he'd cooked up on the drive here.

"I... I didn't even know she existed until this week." he said tiredly, "Her mom ...um ...left without saying a word and a little more than a year later, I suddenly get a call that she's died in a hit-and-run and can I please come and pick up my daughter, so here I am."

It wasn't the best cover story, but he'd learnt to keep to the truth as far as possible and get creative on the details. It was the kind of sob story that where he could get away with not getting into too much detail, actually. Laurie looked like she was fighting tears.

"I'm so sorry." she said sincerely, and he thanked the universe that of all the pharmacy clerks to come across it had been this one to cross his path. "What's her name?"

He looked down at the now once again quiet baby, who gazed back up at him expectantly. HYDRA hadn't bothered to give her a name of course; for them the subjects of their twisted experiments weren't human. He hadn't thought about a detail like that himself, barely used to having a name of his own after 70 years as 'the Asset', though that museum exhibit back in Washington had put it as 'James Buchanan Barnes'. Memories of the life and the person belonging to that name were resurfacing steadily, though not in any way that he could make much sense of. Lately his recollections had focused around the blond man from the Helicarrier, as they always did, and a pretty brunette woman whose name he vaguely recalled as 'Margaret'. That was perhaps a bit old-fashioned for 2014.

"Maggie, her name is Maggie." he said hurriedly, after realizing he'd drifted off and Laurie was looking at him expectantly.

"She has your eyes." Laurie remarked, her own still noticeably damp. She did indeed, he noted while looking down into those huge blue baby eyes. It almost made him smile.

"Okay, okay," Laurie said, pulling herself together and leading him onwards through the store, "I know exactly what else you'll need. Just follow me and we'll have you sorted out in no time."

He left the store with a generous supply of formula and diapers, milk bottles, cream, wipes and powder, as well as a bright green pacifier with a frog on it, and was given a complimentary teething ring as well. 'Quantity discount', Laurie had said, smiling, 'And if she doesn't already, she's gonna need it soon. They can get pretty testy when teething. My sister's little boy...'

He'd listened politely while praying that Whateley's credit card would go through without a hitch, which thankfully it did. He thanked Laurie and left eventually, shopping bags hanging from one arm, baby nestled in the other. By now it was too late for any other shops to still be open, so he focused on finding a place to stay for that night. Putting Maggie back in the cozy nest of coats and blankets he'd built in the footspace of the front passenger seat (they'd definitely need a car seat, this just wasn't feasible), he made sure to drive very carefully until he found a somewhat decent-looking motel by the side of the road. The baby grumbled a bit when he picked her up again, and gave a whimper when her blanket slipped and the cold night air hit her bare skin. He quickly bundled her up tighter and rocked her soothingly, making a mental note to add clothes to the ever-growing list of things he'd need to buy. The more he thought about it the more came to his mind, and basically he had only vague notions of infant care. Even with the ready help of store clerks like Laurie he'd still have to wing it, though it was quite amazing to observe how people fell over themselves to offer their assistance as soon as they saw the baby.  
The same was true of the person behind the motel desk. The middle-aged lady looked wary at first. Understandably so, since his whole get-up didn't exactly inspire confidence, even though he always kept the arm well hidden. He forced a smile that was supposed to look tired, but he didn't have to force it very hard, at least regarding the tired part. The baby had taken to grumbling again and was gripping his shirt in her tiny fist, communicating her displeasure at still being out and about, unwashed and unfed. The lady behind the counter softened immediately; he supposed she had children herself.

"Long day?" she inquired politely.

"Drove all the way from Sioux City today," he replied, affecting an appropriate accent. That wasn't the least bit true, but Whateley's - now his - getaway car had an Iowa license plate. This explanation would seem plausible enough for a motel clerk in Indiana, he figured. He was certainly exhausted enough to have driven for over ten hours and knew he easily looked it, too. He said something else about visiting relatives in Vermont to throw possible pursuers off his track. The woman nodded sympathetically, fingers poised above the keyboard of her computer.

"How long're you staying, dear?"

"Just this night. Could we have a crib? And a ...uh, what are those called again ...a kitchenette? This little one gets grumpy when she's hungry, which is pretty much always." This elicited a genuine giggle from the woman. _Damn, Barnes, you still got it._ He passed over the credit card while continuing to rock the baby to keep her little whines from breaking out into full-blown wailing. The lady handed him the room keys and walked ahead, getting a crib from a supply closet and setting it up in the room for them.

By now it was just past nine and dark. He put the baby down in the crib and set to preparing her some formula milk (mixing some of the medicine into it as Laurie had told him to), grateful for the fact that basically everything came with instructions printed on the packaging nowadays. He also turned on the TV to a local news station to see if there were any reports on the clinic break in. He'd driven to the next bigger town, almost two hours away, and he figured police would be staking out the scene right now. With the DC debacle only two months past any news of secret HYDRA lairs would mean headlines, but so far, there was nothing.

Maggie (he supposed he should start calling her that now, but he was still getting the hang of names) was crying softly when he lifted her up again, nestling her small body to his chest to feed her. When offered the bottle she just fussed more, and he found himself wondering whether the HYDRA scientists at the facility had ever fed those babies properly. His guess was no.

"Come on, peanut, you must be starving. Have some yummy yummy formula. You're gonna love it." She scrunched her little face up unwillingly, obviously perturbed by that weird rubber nub nudging at her face. She opened her mouth to let out another disgruntled wail, and he took the chance to squeeze a couple of drops into her mouth. The confusion on her little face was adorable, but she soon decided that if something so warm and delicious came out of the weird rubber nub she could graciously give it a try. James breathed a sigh of relief when the baby started suckling hesitantly, big blue eyes still gazing up at him with some lingering suspicion, though the expression gradually faded. He let her empty a little less than half the bottle, knowing that overeating after a period of deprivation was harmful for adults and supposing the same might well be true for children. She protested less than he thought she would.

"You're gonna be hungry again in an hour or so anyway; you can have more then." he informed her earnestly.

"Aba," Maggie replied, followed by a little burp. It was nearing ten pm, but there was still one thing left to do.

"Let's get you cleaned up and changed."

Apparently being fed had livened up her spirits, because she started babbling as he carefully bathed her in the sink, seeing as the bathtub was huge and she was so tiny. He had to take his jacket and glove off or they'd have been soaked, and Maggie instantly developed a fascination with his metal arm, trying to grip for his fingers with her chubby little hands, which didn't exactly make bathing her easier. He told her as much. Perhaps unsurprisingly, she remained summarily unimpressed, continuing to grasp and babble, splashing around in the warm, shallow water until the front of his shirt was drenched. He quickly pulled the now wet garment over his head with a sigh. It was probably due to decades spent largely in isolation and the fact that the last two months, being on the run and picking off HYDRA elements, had fatigued him both physically and mentally, but he found himself responding, talking to the baby as he washed and toweled her and changed her into a new diaper.

"And now you go to sleep, young lady." he concluded after he'd swaddled her up in a clean t-shirt and the blanket form earlier, for lack of better options. He set her down in the crib, knowing that he himself wouldn't be able to sleep, but perhaps he could get in a few hours of dozing after looking over Whateley's files some. Maggie was having none of that, though. As soon as she was laid down she started crying pitifully, little face going red and puffy. It tugged at his heartstrings. It was in that moment that the gravity of his earlier decision hit him, and hard. It had seemed instinctual to pick her up and try to care for her; he hadn't questioned it then, only seen the need and responded. He'd gone into mission mindset, seeking to make do as best he could. Only usually that ended up with a hit and a mission report. Now he had adopted a small child. This was the opposite of everything he had ever been trained for. The situation was so absurd that he almost laughed. He was certain no one would expect this of the Winter Soldier, not his handlers, not the media, not Steve. Maggie was still wailing while he ruminated the strange turn his life had taken that day. She didn't seem inclined to stop, so he resolved to pick her up again. She quieted down instantly and hummed contentedly, nuzzling into his chest. This time he couldn't help but smile.

"That's right, weaponize your cuteness." he remarked laconically to the yawning baby and settled himself comfortably on the bed, back leaning against the headboard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, in case you hadn't noticed, I'm not a native speaker, so if you spot a mistake feel free to point it out to me


	3. Start to run

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sharon Carter is working for the CIA after SHIELD's collapse. She and her team are called to investigate when a fertility clinic in Indiana turns out to be more than expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very short chapter, sort of a filler, but introduces other characters and new perspectives  
> hopefully

At first Sharon thought she was being played, that this was a prank (and one in poor taste). Newbies don't get to head up task forces, that just didn't happen. And yet. Like so many other SHIELD agents she had gone over to other agencies: the FBI, CIA, Interpol - you name it. Sharon had a few contacts in the CIA, who vouched for her and paved her way into the agency. She had expected to be confined to a life of low-level administrative drudgery for at least a year, instead her new boss had reacted to the HYDRA debacle by creating a special task force to deal with any upcoming revelations about organizations, or people, who turned out to be HYDRA. And then she'd put Sharon in charge of it. Well, not all of it, but a good chunk. So, for the past two months Sharon and her team had scoured the leaked files for intel, driven out to now abandoned bases... And occasionally, local law enforcement found an unexpected treasure trove.

It was windy in Indiana when she arrived, not quite sure what was waiting for her there. The strange death of a local doctor that looked like a suicide but was too odd to be just that, a break-in at that doctor's private fertility clinic that had revealed more than anybody expected underneath the surface.

"Brief me." Sharon said to her colleague Kelly, a former SHIELD forensic scientist who'd come over to the CIA with her and whom she'd sent ahead as soon as the call from the Shelbyville Sheriff's department came through. Kelly looked pale with a tinge of green as she reported what the search of the premises had revealed, pointing out secret passageways and labs as they passed them. There was a faint antiseptic smell above a subtler note that was sickly-sweet and rotten.

"Any idea who might have called this in?" Sharon asked, stalling deliberately before stepping closer to the boxes on the wall. In the floodlights that had been set up she could just about make out the tiny silhouettes in them.

"Male voice, hard to tell the age. He was obviously trying very hard to make himself sound unrecognizable. No fingerprints or other traces at the phone either, not that we could tell anyway. It's a public phone, so..."

"Anything else? Accents? A lisp maybe?" Sharon inquired further, turning her back to the eerie sight for a moment to collect herself.

"The responder didn't notice anything. In any case, Adam's already on the recording. Hopefully we'll know more when he's done."

"Very good. Tell him to gather what security camera footage he can from the vicinity. If there's any chance our mystery caller so much as walked by a traffic cam I want to know about it." Kelly nodded and punched the instructions into her cell phone, passing them on to Adam 'the tech guy', another member of their team, another former SHIELD agent who'd heeded Captain America's call rather than HYDRA's. Sharon took a deep, steadying breath, instantly regretting the action as the rotten smell fills her airways, but pushes through anyway. It's just as bad as she thought it would be. Sharon has seen her fair share of cruelty in her line of work, but there's something about children being on the receiving end that makes her stomach jolt and her throat constrict. The youngest of the five infants in front of them is just four months old, the oldest just shy of seven. There are three girls and two boys. One of the cots, if one can call the bare, cold boxes that, is empty.

"Any trace of this baby?" Sharon asked, lightly tapping the rim of the box in question with a gloved finger. Kelly shook her head.

"There's no surveillance down here." she said, carefully cataloguing the files on the boxes and packing them up for transport to their labs. "Do you think she might still be alive?"

Sharon nods slowly. It's more of a gut feeling as of yet, but they know that someone broke into the facility and discovered this room and the dead infants in it. They left a clear trail and went to the trouble of tipping off the authorities. It's informed more by hope than evidence at this point, but she hopes that somehow baby number five was still alive when the mystery caller arrived and that he may have taken her to safety. The theory that this one baby was all HYDRA could in the end glean from their experiment and removed for further research is a line of thought she cannot yet entertain, not while she is down there in that room with five dead babies.


	4. Supply Run

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Babies, as it turns out, need a lot of stuff. Time to put HYDRA's dirty money to some good use at last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bucky slipped into that role quite seamlessly, didn't he?

Perhaps the fact that he basically didn't possess a sleeping pattern was helping, though it didn't feel that way. He had actually dozed off fairly quickly, a sign that he had been more exhausted than he'd been willing to admit to himself. Nevertheless he was still a light sleeper and jolted awake instantly every time the baby started crying, which happened roughly every two hours. On the bright side she was feeding without complaint now and her fever was basically gone by the morning.

He had swaddled her up in the blanket again, and she watched with interest as he packed up their things, babbling and gurgling along. Without really meaning to, he found himself holding up his end of the conversation again.

"I should probably prepare you a bottle for during the day, right?"

"Guu..."

"Or actually, two might be better. Yeah, two. Two bottles, that's sensible."

"Guu ...uuuu..."

"Well, we have a lot to get done today. You need some clothes, and a car seat would probably also be good. Can't have you lying around on the floor now, can we?"

"Awoo..."

"That being said, I should probably pick up a book or two. I don't know if you've noticed, but I have no actual idea what I'm doing, or why."

"Aba"

"Right, okay, but first we gotta put some distance between us and that nefarious place. Also the next biggest stores are about an hours drive from here; I looked it up in GPS yesterday."

"Da!"

"Since that means 'yes' in Russian I'll just take that as you agree with everything I just said and can't wait to get started."  
\---

James Buchanan Barnes hadn't really had any reason to concern himself with babies in his previous life. There were vague recollections of younger siblings, but nothing substantial. Once he came home from the war he might have started thinking about starting a family at some point, but as history went that was not the path his life would take. Until now. Now he found himself in a world of happy colors, bows and cutesy animal designs. At least it had been fairly easy to figure out the sizes.

"This would be a lot easier if you could talk." he remarked distractedly while comparing two long-sleeved onesies, one of which had a teddy-bear print while the other was adorned with penguins. Maggie reached out for the rack, taking a firm hold of a penguin-laden sleeve and yanking it towards herself.

"Okay, this works, too."

They utilized this method of shopping until Maggie started fussing and wailing, signaling to him that she was hungry. He quickly paid for the clothes and crossed the mall until he found the food court, where he bought himself a sandwich and charmed an elderly waitress into warming up Maggie's bottle in their kitchen for them, since he found out that she was very much chagrined by the effrontery of being offered cold milk formula.

"There you go, dearie, but you might wanna think about getting a bottle warmer." The waitress said as she handed the bottle back to him. He promised that he would and took off, as much to put the newly purchased baby clothes in the car as to get away from the masses of people. Sitting in the backseat of the car out in the parking lot wasn't the most normal thing to do, but he still had a fair amount of paranoia which was not alleviated by being among crowds. Maggie drank eagerly, little hands gripping the bottle as if she was worried it would vanish. When she had finished, she burped with satisfaction and smiled up at him happily. Just a big gummy smile, bright and beaming and only for him. He felt his heart stutter for a moment, overcome with a strange sensation. Maggie was already nodding off for a nap as he cradled her tiny body closer and stroked a thumb gently along her round cheek. Yawning cutely, she took a hold of his finger with her little hand and cooed, eyes drooping. He gazed down at the little bundle in wonder as she napped contentedly. If he hadn't been irrevocably set on protecting and caring for this child before he certainly was now. It was strange that he would feel this way with all the programming he'd received, since forming strong emotional attachments had definitely not been part of that. Even though she was biologically his, at least according to what he could glean from Whateley's files. There had been a moment the previous night when he thought he should have delivered her into more capable hands, an orphanage, law enforcement... The idea had been discarded as quickly as it had come up. He didn't trust anyone, thus he didn't trust anyone to take care of this child - not that he was especially qualified himself - but that was the way it was.

To distract himself from these conflicting feelings he started reading through the parenting books he'd gotten. He learnt a great deal doing that, like, to his great relief, that he hadn't botched anything too badly up until now. Maggie awoke from her after-lunch nap with another big smile and started cooing and babbling when he dressed her in some of the new clothes. They were a bit big on account of being for six month olds, and she shook her chubby little arms in a futile effort to get her hands free. He had to roll the sleeves up a bit.

"You'll grow into those in no time, peanut." he justified hurriedly, finishing off the outfit of a short-sleeved sailor-style onesie, leggings and knitted cardigan with a pair of impossibly tiny socks. Maggie kicked her feet up when he was done, grabbing a hold of her toes and regarding the socks with an expression of intrigue.

"You get shoes when you start to walk." he informed her unnecessarily, carefully picking her up again, "Okay, we still have a lot to do and not enough time to do it."  
\---

Inside the next store, he spent some fifteen minutes looking at various items with what must a been a look of pure befuddlement, and he almost jumped out of his skin when a quiet voice addressed him from the left. The voice belonged to a sales assistant who looked nervous and too young to be working already, but he supposed they were one of those kids who retained their baby chub far beyond their liking and subsequently looked fourteen until their mid-twenties. Their name tag said 'Brendan' with the final 'n' crossed out. Also, they wore a sparkly bow in their dark, almost chin-length hair, which did little to restrain their unruly curls, but matched earrings, nail polish and shoes. He was therefore inclined to conclude that the 'n' had been crossed out deliberately rather than as the result of a cruel prank. It didn't really matter to him as long as this person could help him. Taking care not to wake the baby nestled into the crook of his arm he turned towards Brenda, who was nervously bouncing on the balls of her feet.

"Um, yes actually, I'm looking for a car seat and... A few other things." he said softly, taking the chance to further hone his 'clueless sudden single dad' act. Brenda's round, kind brown face lit up and she confidently marched him further down the aisle, mouth suddenly moving a mile a minute as she started chattering about these and those features and safety ratings. It was largely due to his training that he could keep up with her excited prattling, but since he knew nothing about the finer points of infant car safety he was reduced to nodding along thoughtfully. Brenda had just wrestled two models from the second highest shelf when the baby started to stir and woke with a wide yawn, crunching up her little nose before looking up at him and then around herself with mild interest.

"So adorable!" Brenda cooed after adding a final car seat to the selection on the floor and stepping a tiny bit closer to get a better look at the baby. He didn't really know how to reply to that. 'Thank you' seemed vaguely conceited. He had no idea what was and wasn't appropriate to say to strangers about the genetically modified baby you just rescued from a secret underground lab, and somehow he doubted there were many precedents for that either.

"Would it be okay to try those out and see which one she likes best?" he asked instead, nodding towards the assembled car seats. Brenda replied with an enthusiastic 'Of course!' and pulled up the first option, a bright red one. He gently pried tiny fingers from his shirt and placed the infant in the seat, letting Brenda show him how to properly adjust and buckle the clasps. The baby wriggled a bit at the new sensation, and he could have sworn she gave them both a skeptical look after which she let out a displeased whine.

"I don't think that's the one." he concluded and Brenda nodded, already undoing the straps. They repeated the process with the second seat, which was dark blue with polka dots and the safest model currently in their inventory according to Brenda. Maggie whined a bit as she was moved from seat to seat and buckled up again, but soon relaxed and gave a contented sigh as soon as she was properly settled in the blue seat.

"Getting warmer." Brenda commented impishly and he found himself smiling a little. Maggie looked just about ready to go back to sleep after a moment of stirring, and grew very disgruntled very quickly when they attempted to put her into the last seat.

"I guess that means we're taking this one, then." he said sheepishly and picked up the seat with the now blissfully dozing baby, eliciting a quiet giggle from Brenda.

"Guess it does. Now what else did you need?"

'A few other things' turned into two over-full shopping carts even though he tried to keep it light and contained. Just as it turns out, babies require a great deal of things. It was a good thing the late HYDRA agent's car was quite big after all, as well as the limit on his credit card. James left Maggie and her new car seat in Brenda's temporary care while another employee helped him load his purchases into the vehicle. Maggie was wide awake by the time he returned to pick her up again, and she was getting hungry, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay this is the last chapter I had pre-written, so from now on you'll have to wait between updates :(  
> feedback, ideas, criticisms and questions are always welcome, so don't be shy^^


	5. Ghost Material

Sharon stepped out of the house of the late Doctor Whateley, pausing a moment to read the plaque fastened to the wall of the neighboring building for the second time that day: _Historical Landmark, James Buchanan 'Bucky' Barnes Birth House. James 'Bucky' Barnes, Howling Commando, missing in action December 18th 1944, was born here on March 10th 1917 as the eldest son of George and Winnifred Barnes._

  
"The nerve!" Adam groused behind her, shooting Whateley's front door a sour glance. "They literally have no shame!"

Silently, Sharon agreed with her colleague. It really was adding insult to injury to move in right next to a place directly connected to a man who had given his life to fight the organization one was working for, but then again she supposed that terms like 'empathy' or 'respect' weren't commonplace in HYDRA's vocabulary, certainly not in that of a man who literally grew his own humans to experiment on.

"Let's just get to work. The sooner we're done here the better." she orders mildly and steps aside, letting Adam, Kelly and the remainder of her small team carry the boxes of evidence to their vehicles. They had processed the scene for the better part of the day, after spending the entirety of the previous two on the clinic and its seedy hidden bowels. Someone had taken the majority of the files, assuming there had been any left to take to begin with. Someone had also most definitely been in the house with Whateley. They had found some traces: hair, skin, a third of a fingerprint. Sharon hoped there'd be a match in any of the databases at their disposal, but doubted it if she were to be quite honest with herself. At least whoever had been there had left behind Whateley's laptop. Adam was already itching to get his fingers on that, she knew.

They'd been afforded a few rooms at the local police station, and Sharon briefed her people on what she wanted whom to work, then went to get herself the next of too many cups of coffee in too short a time span. Sharon barely notices the time pass as she works, flitting through the rooms of the station, telephone in hand more often than not, coordinating this investigation that poses more questions than it yields answers. With a long-suffering sigh, she hangs up on her boss after giving a thorough status update and stares blankly at the case board. The case board is just a cork pin board with a handful of photos and handwritten notes and many, many question marks at this point.

Their current theory is that whoever accosted Whateley in his house knew the doctor was secretly HYDRA and confronted him about it. There had been no trace of outside force on Whateley's body, leading them to assume that he, cornered by the mystery assailant, took his own way out rather than give anything up. The unknown person then went on to search the clinic, finding the secret labs in the process. Possibly they took the missing baby. This would mean that this person was the same who placed the anonymous call. Unfortunately, none of this brings them any closer to identifying the man.

Sharon is staring intently at a blurry figure, slightly hunched over, walking briskly by a store front. The image is dark due to the time of day, and he keeps his face cautiously averted from the security camera. Athletic build, about six feet tall, a description that does little to exclude potential suspects. This does not exactly look promising, Sharon finds.

"So this is the guy that placed the call?"

"Yeah, I traced the call back to that phone and matched the time." Adam explains, "I couldn't even get a profile shot, but get this!" His fingers flit over the keyboard swiftly as he rewinds the footage, then zooms in and applies some kind of filter that makes the image lighter. The mystery man is just hanging up the phone receiver. his head is bowed away from the camera, and he's cradling one arm against his torso. There seems to be some kind of lump underneath his bulky dark jacket, which is half unzipped. There is a small flicker of movement, light against the dark fabric, then he quickly adjusts the lump and takes off towards the store. 

Sharon can feel her heart in her throat as she leans in closer. 

"Can you zoom in further? And make the image clearer?" she asks breathlessly. Adam works his magic again, and after some moments of filtering and adjusting they can make out that the flicker of movement from the man's jacket is a tiny, little hand. 

"So he did take the missing baby." Sharon breathes, not sure how to feel about that. 


	6. Great Lakes

There's still nothing on the news on either HYDRA, Whateley, or his clinic, as he drives towards his next target, which is in Michigan. He hopes, since the authorities apparently have decided to keep this affair under the radar, that they at least had the decency to give the other infants a proper burial. It also tells him that they might well be looking for him now. It had been a risk to call the thing in, giving them a clue to his whereabouts, his identity, but he'd figured it was the least he could do. it wasn't like he didn't know how to drop off the grid after all. He's only used cash since making those initial big purchases, wary of anyone being able to find him and the baby by tracking the credit card transactions, but those had been necessary. He hadn't wanted to deplete his cash resources too much, not knowing for how long they might have to last, even if Whateley had all of fifteen grand in a bag in the trunk of the car. If anyone, HYDRA or law enforcement or even the Captain, is following him then they will have a damn hard time retracing his steps. Of course, the baby makes him infinitely more recognizable, but leaving her behind is not an option. He's been doing what he could to seem inconspicuous in the meantime, laying out red herrings any way he knew how. The few people he'd had to interact with he'd told wildly varying accounts of who they are and where they're headed; even if any pursuers were clever and thorough enough to figure out that the young man and his baby were the same people each time, they still would hardly be able to catch up. He is leagues ahead.

Technically he stole evidence, he thinks, glancing over at the baby dozing in her car seat next to him. She's looking out the window at the blurry landscape rushing by with drooping eyes and clutching the little stuffed bunny he got her with a handful of other toys, along with a cot and a high chair and many other things. There are a couple of other stuffed animals, a penguin and a puppy, but the bunny is her favorite with its long, soft floppy ears. He searches for a radio station that plays jazz or classical music, since those will almost unfailingly put Maggie to sleep. True to Laurie's prediction, she had started teething the week after he found her, and hadn't been able to sleep properly for the fourth night in a row now, so he was glad she was getting some rest on the drive.

The teething ring lay discarded on the dashboard. He'd read that you were supposed to cool it to numb the pain in the gums from the teeth breaking through, but he'd learned the hard way that Maggie absolutely despised having cold things put in her mouth. It made him wonder what HYDRA had done to her to cause such a strong reaction. Whateley's files didn't give any clues to that particular conundrum. What he had read there, however, was horrifying enough. When the original purpose of the experiment didn't yield the desired results, HYDRA had re-purposed and planned to raise them as their loyal puppets, employing the brainwashing methods they'd used on him, only from earliest childhood onward. When he'd read that he had thrown up, then had a panic attack. Good thing Maggie had been soundly asleep at that point. He still shudders at the thought of a small army of highly trained and brainwashed killers who had no way of breaking through their programming because they would have known nothing else. He reaches across to Maggie, lightly tickling her side until she grips his finger and finally falls asleep properly.

 

By the time they've reached their destination Maggie is well rested and thankfully un-grumped because of it. She doesn't seem to be in pain from her teeth at the moment and even gives him a big smile. He quickly gathers what he needs from the car, grabs the carrier part of the car seat and checks into a room in a small motel just outside a small town near the shores of Lake Huron. The landscape is actually rather nice, and for a moment he thinks he might just take a day or so off and take a nice walk with Maggie there.  They didn't have a stroller as he'd thought them too ungainly, but he had one of those baby slings where you could strap your child to your chest or back, which he liked because it left his hands free and Maggie could look around herself. She would like the flowers growing there; maybe they'd even see a few wild animals. Or other people out on walks, perhaps with dogs. Maggie liked dogs. 

No. HYDRA was the top priority and other people could be used to identify them. It wasn't safe. 

He quickly went to their room and got to work preparing their respective dinners. After that he'd have to do some laundry and since Maggie had just slept in the car she wouldn't be tired enough again for a few hours. He used the time for the small indulgence of playing with her. She could sit remarkably well for her age already, and was now happily sitting on the wide bed, trying to find new ways to fit the pieces of her stacking toy together, tossing them away when they don't turn out to be the specific one she wanted at that moment and taking them from his hands again when he picks the pieces back up and passes them back to her. She does this with a focus and concentration that seems almost uncanny for an infant until the result is a tower that looks positively gravity-defying. Yet it stands and he feels a surge of pride well up inside. Maggie clapped her hands excitedly and resumed her babbling, which had ceased during the final stages of construction, as if to explain her design to him. James smiled and gently smoothed her fine hair back. 

"Woo-woo." she said very earnestly after picking up her stuffed puppy and showing it to him. 

"Close enough." he decrees, then checks the clock on the opposite wall. Their first batch of laundry should be done by now, so he scoops Maggie up while she's still enraptured by the toy and makes his way down to the laundry room of the motel. 


	7. Tracking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sharon and her team take up the chase

The temperature has dropped considerably during the night, making their breath cloud in the early morning air as they pull up in front of the pharmacy. Kelly kills the engine and locks up the vehicle, the follows Sharon inside, straight to the manager's office. 

"Laurie, could you please come by my office for a moment?" her manager's voice calls over the speaker system, making Laurie look up sharply. She quickly racks her brain for anything she might have done wrong. She hasn't been working here for that long, less than half a year, and she is the youngest employee as well, placing her effectively at the very bottom of the pecking order. This would be a tremendously bad thing if her colleagues weren't as kind or at least polite as they are. Maybe it's just about changing shifts with Kim again, she thinks and knocks on the door, entering shortly after. The two women in business-like pantsuits are a surprise, and Laurie stops a moment, looking uncertainly from the visitors to the squat figure of her boss. 

"Thank you for coming, dear. Don't worry, these agents just need to ask you some questions." he says kindly, jumping up and drawing out another chair for her to sit. Laurie does so automatically, but her heart has started pounding uneasily nonetheless, and doesn't really stop doing so as the blonde of the two women introduces them as CIA agents and explains that they're looking for someone. 

"I'm sorry for taking up your time, Miss Henderson. We wouldn't even need to speak to you except Mr Palmer here imformed us that the security cameras in this store were out of order all of last week. You were working on the evening of the 16th, correct?"

Laurie nods blankly. That had only been a few days ago. The woman, who had introduced herself as Agent Carter, nods back. 

"The man we are looking for came through here around half past seven. White, late twenties to early thirties, about six feet tall, athletic build..."

Laurie nods along, sifting through her memory. There hadn't been many patrons that night, and she can narrow it down to a handful based on that description. 

"...Also, he was carrying a baby." Agent Carter concludes, watching her reaction closely. Laurie can almost feel the metaphorical lightbulb flare. 

"Yes, yes, he was here." she affirms quickly, then pauses. The young man hadn't seemed like the kind who'd be hunted by the CIA. "He's not... They're not in trouble, are they?" she asks hesitantly, the image of the young man and his sad, worried eyes as he gently cradled the baby in his arms before her mind's eye. 

"No, well..." Agent Carter starts, smiling sympathetically for the first time since Laurie came in. "He's an important witness. There are some very unsavory people after him."

"Oh." Laurie said, deflating, wondering what international government conspiracy she might have just stumbled into. "He, uh... He paid with credit card. Maybe you can use that to trace him." 

"I can pull that information up for you right now." Mr Palmer offered helpfully, already turning towards his computer. Agent Carter nodded gratefully. 

"That would be very good of you. Thank you both for your help."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't even know guys, I should be doing homework and preparing for finals


	8. Into the Woods

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Why is writing so hard?" I lament as I struggle to update and also none of the stories I am reading update. *we'reallinthistogetheraren'twe*

In the end, he stayed there much longer than he had originally intended. Not in the little motel. He'd scoped out his target, another mid-level HYDRA operative gone into hiding, in the days following his arrival in the small town by the lake. After three days of observation, he'd struck, surprising the agent in his safe house, a cabin in the middle of the woods. There wasn't much the man could tell him and eventually James had buried him a few miles into the forest.

He needed to get rid of Whateley's car, too, in case someone, be they HYDRA or not, was tracking him. He checked them out of the motel and moved into the cabin, leaving the SUV in a parking lot of one of the bigger cities nearby, unlocked and keys stuck in the ignition. It was only a matter of time until it found a new owner, he figured. Luckily the man who had been his target had had his own vehicle. James would have to get rid of that in time, too, but for the time being it would work. 

Frankly, he was exhausted. Tired. So, so tired. It was exhausting to a degree that defied description to not know who he was, who he had been, and who he was supposed to be. Revenge was exhausting, and even though he kept firmly telling himself that his was a journey of research more than anything else he was under no illusion that what he had set out for was just that: revenge. Retribution for the years in which they had broken him down and hollowed him out and murdered the brave young man named Bucky Barnes. That wasn't him anymore.

Playing with Maggie, listening to her babbling, rocking her to sleep, finally taking that walk he'd been thinking about - those were the only moments when he found himself relax somewhat. And taking care of a baby was a full-time job, too. Before he knew it, they had spent almost two full weeks in the cabin. One walk turned into one a day, and the fresh air, the wildness of nature around, let him truly believe for the first time that he was free. It was...peaceful. If not for the fractured state of his mind, the spontaneous disjointed memory flashes - you could never tell beforehand what it was that came to haunt him, childhood, family, war, torture, assassinations, and sometimes he didn't know which was worse, - he could have almost enjoyed it. 

\---

Brooklyn, 1942

"Do you want to hold him?" asked Rebecca Barnes Proctor, while looking down at her newborn son's rosy cheeks. Bucky looked down at the small bundle in wonder, not quite grasping the concept that he was now an uncle. Well, the child was barely a month old, he supposed he had time to get used to it. 

"Now that you've produced an heir for the noble line of Barnes, maybe Ma will lay off me for a while." he quipped lowly so his mother wouldn't hear in the next room, letting his younger sister gently deposit the baby in his arms. She scoffed in response, but didn't comment. The little boy looked up at him, dozily, like he is slightly perturbed by this new person but too tired to really care. Bucky knows his mother only wants him to be happy, but her definition of happiness is family. She's always had that homestead instinct, and Rebecca inherited it, which is why she is married and a new mother at 24 years old. Those things just aren't for him, at least not yet. He knows he could have avoided the draft if he were married (but for how long? Eventually they'd draft married men as well), but he'd figured that was a pretty weak reason for a wedding. And to whom, anyway. He'd been on dates, sure, but he'd never had a steady girlfriend even. Maybe if he came home from the battlefields of Europe in more or less one piece. As it is, he's 25 years old and there's a war on; he's only just back from basic training and waiting for his orders. If he comes back, he thinks and rocks his nephew gently, it might be an idea he could get used to. Then the baby suddenly starts awake and begins crying. Loudly. Miserably. 

\---

James starts awake to the sound of miserably pitiful wailing. He'd fallen asleep while looking through the files he'd pilfered; a sheet of paper sticks to his cheeks as he sits up abruptly. Maggie's crying in her cot, on the other side of the room. He snaps the paper from his face and throws it on the table top haphazardly, then quickly makes his way over to the green and black travel cot where Maggie is lying, kicking around in her sleeping bag, face dark red and screwed tight with little hot tears streaming over it. He picks her up immediately, rocking her and humming soothingly. It does nothing. It's not her teeth bothering her. She makes this abundantly clear as she angrily whacks away the teething ring when he offers it to her. She's not hungry, either, and her diaper isn't full. He conscientiously checks all this, still the fearful crying persists. Not even Bunny can console her, and she sends the toy flying across half the room and onto the undisturbed bed before pressing her little hands to her face again, swiping frantically. He is glad, at least, that he took the time to file down her nails the previous day, otherwise she would have scratched herself quite seriously now. Baby nails, for all their tininess, are wickedly sharp. 

 It's been close to an hour, and though Maggie has sobbed herself hoarse she is nowhere near calmed. It gnaws at him, deep down where he didn't think that there was still a soul there. He thought they'd beat and burned and frozen that out of him. But with Maggie's frantic wheezing and crying there is no room for him to celebrate this rediscovery of his own human core. 

"Did you have a nightmare, peanut? Shhh, it's alright, it's over now," he soothes, still rocking her back and forth. His arm is only just starting to tire, but he'd keep going until it fell off, if he had to. 

"I know what that's like, to be scared, to wake up screaming." he murmurs on. He had actually woken her up a few times with his screams, when another night terror had propelled him from sleep into the depths of his suffering, then back into the world. He knew all too well what that was like, but she shouldn't. 

It takes most of the rest of that night for Maggie to calm down, by the end of it she's simply too exhausted to go on. With renewed purpose, James packs up their things and maps out the way to his next target. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oooooh, a flashback  
> tbh guys, I'm not even sure what I'm doing here. it started as 'imagine your fav character as a dad' and the subsequent thought of 'how could this plausibly happen', now we're here. the frustrating thing is that I basically have the end written out already, but how to get there... writing is hard  
> also I see y'all subscribing and bookmarking and kudo-ing but not commenting. What's up with that? Feedback is the nourishment of the artist's soul.


	9. Suspicion

Sharon resisted throwing the door closed with a satisfying bang. They had just _just_ finally gotten an actual promising lead on the mystery caller and part-time kidnapper when her boss had called them back, saying the team was needed more urgently elsewhere. Apparently a lone vigilante who went specifically after HYDRA assets and seemed to have more inside information than they could ever hope to glean wasn't that important to her superiors. 

"So I take it we're not staying here." Kelly said, pausing to pin another blurry security camera image to the board. Sharon inhaled deeply.

"We're flying back tomorrow morning. Please tell me you found something." 

"He used the credit card again, here." Adam tapped the screen of his computer, pointing out a shopping mall by the highway, "Bought like two grand worth of baby stuff, so I guess we don't have to worry about that too much, at least." 

Sharon nodded. 

"Okay, good work. We can't go ourselves, but maybe you could call? Mall management or something? We need that security footage. We need to know who this man is." 

"I think I could actually hack into that from here maybe." he replies, shyly rubbing the back of his neck. Sharon finds it in herself to grin again. 

"You're a miracle worker, Adam!" she exclaims happily, already feeling her anger dissipate. They may order her to put this search on the backburner but she'll still pursue it best as she can. Adam blushes slightly and turns back to the monitor, already typing away on the keyboard. 

"I'll start packing up, then." Kelly offers helpfully. They do have a veritable boatload of evidence now, and it all needs to be shipped to the FBI bureau in Quantico. Normally the two agencies wouldn't be in such close co-operation but since HYDRA has been declared an international terrorist threat and made top priority, theirs is a joint task force. Even if she can't go herself, maybe if Adam's search at the mall yields something she can send some of her rookies to ask around. 

As it is, the mall's security cameras aren't accessible from afar. Adam was devastated, but it's hardly his fault not everyone is on the up of technology yet, especially some mall in the Midwest. At least he's found out what mystery man bought when and which of the employees were working at that time and can be interviewed as witnesses. Just as soon as Sharon and her team get back to headquarters they are in fact so swamped with work that no progress is made for weeks. She barely finds the time to visit her aunt and lament about her plight. 

As soon as there's some room to breathe though, Sharon handpicks a couple of FBI rookies, who had been SHIELD rookies before, to go and make the necessary inquests, giving Kelly the authority over that little sub-team. 

When they return, Kelly is actually bouncing on her heels in excitement. 

"We have a face!" she says happily, quickly setting down her bag and retrieving a printed page from a folder within. It shows a man who appears to be around thirty standing in an aisle in a store amid car seats and strollers, gently cradling a baby in his arms while he appears to be talking to a young employee with wild, dark curls. He's looking up at the shelf, showing his face in profile, only the forehead and eyes are shadowed by a nondescript baseball hat. It's undoubtedly better than before, but not quite as good as Sharon expected after such a joyous exclamation, and she says as much. 

"Yeah, I know, which is why I-" she starts scrambling around in the folder again until she finds the sheet of paper she was looking for, "-why I organized a sketch artist and sat that girl down until we had this." Kelly quickly taps the employee in the picture by way of explanation, then presents the sketch, which is almost lifelike except for the obvious fact that it's black and white, to her boss with a triumphant grin. 

"Quite handsome actually, isn't he?" Kelly has resumed her bouncing, but Sharon barely registers that as she stares down at the face, which is awfully familiar. She's seen it in photos and old newsreels, except she's never met the man, because he died long before she was even born. 

"You okay?" Kelly asks, faltering in her mirth. 

"Umm, yeah, yeah thanks. Good work, Kelly. You and your team have a drink on me tonight." she answers absently, tenderly taking up the drawing in one hand, the print out in the other. Seems like another visit to Aunt Peggy was in order. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> god idek about the bureaucracy concerning those agencies actually, so yeah, totally made up. It made sense in my head somehow when I wrote it.  
> I'm not sure I can actually write Peggy, so I don't know if I should include her, even if it's just for one scene. I really want to, though, Peggy is awesome. (Sometimes I think if I loved Peggy and Bucky any more I'd be Steve, sometimes I'm almost convinced I love them even more than Steve, which is probably not possible)


	10. Ghosts Awakened

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay I ended up writing Peggy anyway, so hooray for me for pushing through my reservations. hope I didn't mess it up too badly, I couldn't forgive myself if I didn't do her justice

Peggy Carter was lucid when her niece arrived at the home. Normally this would be an occasion to be grateful for, but since the HYDRA reveal it also meant that Peggy Carter had seen her life's work destroyed, perfidiously, by the very people she had spent her life fighting against. Her aunt was the strongest person Sharon knew, and to see her like this now... suffice to say she didn't relish what she was about to unleash on the old lady who had been her idol since before she knew what idols were. But she needed the confirmation, and possibly her advice and maybe, just maybe, it could repair some of the guilt Peggy Carter felt over not having known what was going on to get a second chance at saving an old friend. 

"Aunt Peggy," Sharon started timidly after the initial smalltalk was over, nervously wiping her hands on her pants. 

"My dear, what is it?" Peggy's brows knit together above the dark eyes that had lost none of their sharpness. 

"I need to ask you something. And I need to show you something, but-"

"But what?"

"I am concerned." 

"Not for me, I hope. You know whatever you have to throw at me, I've been through worse already." the older woman's smile is wry to begin with and fades quickly, but Peggy Carter was never one to dwell unnecessarily. Sharon breathes deeply and reaches for her briefcase, retrieving the brown envelope that holds the two images Kelly had brought back from her quest. 

"I've told you about my case," she begins, hesitantly, fumbling with the envelope a bit to stall. Peggy sits up a bit straighter and folds her worn hands in anticipation. Physically she'd been doing a bit better lately, so at present she's out of bed and sat at a small table with her niece. 

"There's been a new development. We finally have actual footage, and we think we may be able to identify the man we've been looking for." Peggy nods along while Sharon separates the two sheets of paper, sliding the print out of the security camera over the table face down. 

"And why do you want me to have a look at this, then?" Peggy asks, extending one hand towards the sheet in front of her, though she doesn't pick it up yet. 

"Because I think I know who he is, except if I'm right that can't be possible. Maybe I just need you to tell me that I'm not seeing things, Aunt Peggy." 

Peggy nods sagely and picks up the image in one swift motion, peering at it for a long moment. 

"Well?" Sharon prompts nervously. 

"Half his face is hidden; you can never be sure in these cases." Peggy answers levelly, but there is the slightest tremble in her hand, making the paper flutter just a bit. 

"I know," Sharon says, "I have another one, but I didn't want to put any preconceived notions in your head." 

Peggy nods again, sparing her niece and appreciative glance, before raising the image closer to her face again, studying it intently. It's good that her eyesight has never started decreasing; it's still as sharp and discerning as it was when she was a girl. 

"Sharon, if I didn't know better I would say the man you're looking for is James Barnes, but that can't be right, obviously, because he..."

"Because he's been dead for 70 years." Sharon finishes the sentence, simultaneously sliding the drawing  across the table, face up. Peggy gasps a moment. "God Almighty." 

With some effort, Peggy pushes herself up from her chair and shuffles over to the far side of her room, where a bookshelf is fastened to the wall. She pulls out a shoebox-sized wooden case and comes back, sets it down on the table top and begins sorting through it until she finds what she has been looking for: an old photo of herself with the Howling Commandos. In it, a considerably younger Peggy Carter is standing to the Captain's right, while he has his left arm draped around the shoulders of his best friend. Everyone is smiling. 

"Does Steve know?" Peggy asks after a long moment. Sharon can only shrug since she hadn't seen the man, face to face, since the night that Fury was shot by who she now knows was the Winter Soldier. The very same whom Steve Rogers fought on the Helicarrier, nearly dying in the process. She doesn't have the Captain's number, either, though Natasha had told her, before leaving herself, that she'd given him hers. 

"He's out of the country at the moment. He called a while ago to say that he wouldn't be able to come by for some time." Peggy remarks, setting the images down one next to the other and gently smoothing her hand over the paper in reminiscence. There is no way, they both know, that Steve fought his friend without recognizing him. 

"I've told you about the case. Aunt Peggy, these experiments were done using the Winter Soldier." She lets the sentence hang in the air, the implications clear to either woman. Now that she thinks back to it, those babies looked an awful lot like the man in the photos and drawing before her. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sooooooo?


	11. Solid

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so, somehow this already turned out to be much longer than I ever anticipated (the whole story I mean, but also this chapter in particular). how 'bout that. apparently these things happen when you start writing a story without any clear plan as to where it's going *insert shrug emoticon*

These HYDRA people had a habit of taking huge amounts of cash with them when going into hiding, not that he was going to complain about that. In one of his more relaxed moments he thought he might use it to set up a college fund for Maggie, but then again she was only seven months old. He hadn't had to plan for the future in over seventy years. Also the supply of HYDRA assets, current as well as former, seemed nearly endless. 

With caring for the child, each instance of accosting and subsequently eliminating one of them took twice or thrice as long as it would otherwise, what with him having to make sure Maggie was all settled and preferably asleep before he went out to hunt. Then again it felt like doing that was the only thing keeping him sane. One would perhaps not expect that to be the case when seeing the man earnestly conversing with the baby, but as long as strangers didn't bother or report him he couldn't possbily care less what they thought. 

Maggie has grown considerably in the time since he found her, and made leaps and bounds in her development, most of them earlier than average, but to him she still seems so impossibly small. And right now she's down for an intense round of peek-a-boo after bouncing excitedly on his lap before, working out her little legs to the point of exhaustion. She is determined like that. Already she tries to pull herself up to stand whenever she spies the chance to do so, though she can't even crawl yet. 

"You're gonna try and run before you can walk, won't you?" he said fondly before dutifully covering his face with his hands again. Maggie's fascination with the glinting metal had faded and she no longer saw it as something noteworthy. He felt one little hand tap the back of his metal one impatiently. 

"Boo!" Maggie says with relish, and he moves his hands, revealing his face again. 

"Boo!" he repeats softly and she laughs brightly, arms waving in delight. They continue this game for some time. Frankly, James can't figure out what exactly is so entertaining about it but Maggie laughs more with each time, eventually falling over backwards onto the soft sheets of the motel bed where she's been sitting. He can't help but join in, ruffling the soft light brown tufts of hair after she'd rolled around onto her front. She pushes herself up slightly on her arms and grins. He tickles her sides, making her squirm and giggle as he lies down on top of the bed and curls his large frame around her protectively. Maggie catches his hand and holds on tightly, grasping the fingers and cooing. He makes a show of dragging her across the surface of the bedspread a bit, just a couple of inches, drawing his arm back while she hangs onto the hand with a vice grip. Maggie giggles again, then unclamps her strong grip and rolls back over on her back, tucking herself into the warmth of his chest and reaching overhead to gently pat his face. His last shave was days ago, but she doesn't seem to mind, just cooing and smiling. He brings his arm around and draws her small body closer, hugging her securely before dropping a tender kiss on the crown of her head. She hums contentedly as her eyes fall shut for a little nap.

 

"Okay, peanut, fruit or veggies?" James placed two little jars in front of Maggie who was sitting in her high chair after playtime and napping. He'd decided to make a first attempt at starting her on solids, since she'd been increasingly interested in what was on his plate lately and seemed to grow bored with her bottle. He couldn't say he blamed her. Just the same bland old milk formula day in, day out would get boring, he supposed. Maggie looked from the jars to him and back skeptically, reaching for one tentatively. It skidded across the table of her chair and almost fell off. He only caught it at the last moment. 

"I'll take that to mean you want to try the other one first." he decreed and went to unscrew the lid of the small container. Maggie watched patiently, scrunching up her nose. He took the spoon from the little crockery set that shows Peter Rabbit and his family and dips it into the jar of pureed banana, then maneouvers it towards Maggie's mouth. She eyes the spoon suspiciously, then him with some measure of affront. He had counted on her being more willing when she was hungry, which she should be by now, but apparently it wasn't going to be that easy.

"Come on, peanut, open up." he encourages gently, wiggling the spoon a bit. Nothing. He could have sworn the baby scoffed a bit, in fact. 

"It's yummy!" he promised. Unconvincingly. Maggie didn't budge, just eyed him as if to say 'Is it? Is it really? Have _you_ tried it?' - actually...

"What the hell is this?" James exclaimed after popping the tiny spoon into his own mouth. The label on the jar definitely said banana, and although he couldn't exactly remember ever eating a banana before something told him that the taste was off. Maggie drummed her hands on the table triumphantly. 

"No, young lady, you're not getting off this easy." he countered, spooning up a new portion of banana puree. It didn't taste right to him, but other than that it didn't actually taste bad and he wasn't going to give up just like that. Apparently Maggie was just as stubborn though, shaking her head and swatting his hand and the spoon away when they came nearer. He briefly wondered whether that was a trait he'd had before and if it might be hereditary. After several more minutes of grumbling and fussing he was close to throwing in the towel, or rather spoon. So that was what he did, jamming the spoon back into the jar and folding his arms across his chest a moment, looking down at Maggie and her pout with a frown. 

"Formula it is then. You can't claim that I didn't try." 

"Aba." Maggie said. He got up to prepare her a bottle. She would have gotten one anyway, but he'd wanted to start getting her accustomed to solids. When he turned back around, he found the spoon on the floor, his baby's face and hands smeared with pureed banana and her munching away happily as she dipped her fingers into the jar, then stuffed them into her mouth. She had the cheekiness to brazenly grin up at him, showing off her two teeth. 

"Unbelievable." he commented, unable to keep the grin from tugging at the corners of his mouth. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yay, I found the fluff again *fistpump*  
> srsly, I actually did research and watched like one and a half youtube videos of babies being fed


	12. A Trail of Breadcrumbs and Dislocated Limbs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> slightly gory in the beginning. sorry. Bucky's still kinda messed up after all.

Sharon had informed her superiors and then her team that they were now officially looking for none other than the Winter Soldier. On the bright side, this meant that the search for him was now their highest and only goal. On the not quite as bright side...

"As much as I like presents, this is just creepy." Kelly said flatly and Adam nodded, looking at the mangled body of a former HYDRA scientist. The man, who had been in charge of developing brainwashing techniques, was strung to a chair in his house, both shoulders dislocated and wrenched back so far that the arms looked like they had been put on the wrong way around. There was also blood. Not as much as one might expect, but it had congealed at the man's feet where a little cardboard box with folders had been placed. also the man's face had been smashed in with such ferocity as if the person who did it had meant to re-define 'blunt force trauma'. Other than that, both patellas were pulverized, both feet crushed - had the HYDRA scientist survived his encounter with his former test subject he'd never have walked again. Finally, the head is tilted at an odd angle, the neck snapped. Efficient, fast, comparatively painless. It tells her that the Winter Soldier is not a sadist looking to sate his twisted fantasies, but the other injuries and their extent, all administered pre-mortem, spell out loud and clear that there is great potential for violence, for doing harm. Sharon can't help but wonder how much of Bucky Barnes is still alive. 

She had held back that bit of information, not sure how to explain that the terrorist (for all they knew) and assassin they were hunting now was also a celebrated hero from the Second World War, Captain America's right hand man and a legend in his own right. Who was supposedly dead, let's not forget that. Even if Bucky Barnes was a lost cause now, she felt she owed it to his memory. The man who fell to his death those seventy years ago deserved to have his legacy unscathed.

Alas, back to the issue at hand. This was the first body to have been so displayed for finding, if you didn't count Whateley, but Sharon was reasonably certain that it wasn't the first the Winter Soldier had left behind. At least now they had a trail to pick up again, here in Wisconsin. The guy had dropped out of existence for all they could tell after Indiana. Sharon found herself wondering, not worrying just wondering, how the baby was doing. He seemed to have at least tried to take good care of her, but with the maimed corpse in front of her and Natasha's last words before she left for goodness knows where still in her ears, she just isn't sure that the man who used to be Bucky Barnes is even capable of looking after an infant. Okay, maybe she is worrying. 

"Should we put out a warrant for this guy or something?" Adam asked, having turned his greenish face from the grisly scene. 

"There already is, a tacit one anyway. Besides, everyone knows what happened in Washington. If someone spots the soldier, they'll let someone know." ...that someone preferably being the autorities and also it would be good if no one tried to engage him. He'd been civil enough with the few people they knew he'd interacted with, but there was no telling how he'd react to being caught in public. He was still the Winter Soldier. Those images from the fighting in Washington were sure to be seared into the minds of people for a long time to come. 

"Yeah, for the Winter Soldier," Adam exclaimed a little testily. He hadn't gotten enough sleep lately, none of them had. "If anyone had seen leather-clad Robocop/Terminator strolling through Main Street we'd already know. What I mean is put out a warrant for John Doe and Baby Doe, descriptions and all."

"He'll know we're after him. He'll only go deeper into hiding, maybe even leave the country!" Kelly objected, making Sharon glad that she wouldn't have to be the one to shoot Adam down like that. Kelly was right. The problem was, Adam was also right. And they desperately needed a trace that wasn't as cold as the body behind them. Sharon sighed. 

"We're gonna try a two-pronged approach here. One: try to find similar cases to this one, sudden disappearances, inexplicable deaths. Cross-check that with the list HQ is compiling from the leaked files. We need to find out where they were and when. Two: a warrant for him and the baby, full description, hell, add the sketch, too - but only to law enforcement. I don't want this to end up on national television. Be very clear on that. Also be very clear that absolutely no one is to appraoch him and for goodness sake, don't tell them that we're actually looking for the Winter Soldier. I don't want some small town deputy sheriff with a hero complex to wind up dead. Am I understood?"

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> feedback makes the writer grow fonder, y'all know that, right?  
> more inspired, too. for example I wrote this entire chapter in like half a day after getting a first comment on this story  
> just saying...


	13. Glint

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually wrote an epilogue the other day  
> I don't even have the ending finalized, not even speaking of how to get there (but I'm getting there), but I have written an epilogue  
> so yeah, we're covered folks

As far as he could tell, no one was on their trail yet. That was good, he'd been worried. The last mission had gone awry somewhat, he'd lost it, all but mauled the guy and then left him behind like some kind offering, file full of evidence and all. The guy had been in charge of his wiping for over twenty years, developed the process and used him as his lab rat for tuning that goddamned machine he still saw, felt, heard, even _tasted_ in his dreams. 

But that hadn't been what had made his blood boil. The guy, a certain Doctor Lohmer, had also been consulted for Project Minotaurus, and gleefully told him more than he ever wanted to know about how they'd planned to ensure the compliance of the subjects (his babies, James's babies!), and what a pity it was that the project had to have been discontinued. James had thought of little Maggie slumbering peacefully in the car outside, cuddling her Bunny, and snapped. He'd have torn Lohmer limb from limb of she hadn't woken up, little sniffling cries waking him out of his blood rage. It was good that he'd gotten a baby monitor and re-wired the receiver to feed directly into his comms. It wasn't like he could just bring her along when he went out to interrogate people. 

Anyway, that had been that, and James had decided that he needed a break and that was why he was now sitting at the far side of a sunny little vintage-styled diner in Southern South Dakota, treating himself to a full three-course-meal (the first proper meal in ages, certainly the first that didn't come out of a can or fast food chain) while Maggie was treated to a variety of fruit and vegetable mushes. For the joyous occasion of her turning nine months old on this day they'd have something nice for dessert even. 

"We gotta live a little." he'd told her, oblivious to the waitress's desperate attempts at flirting. Maggie grinned and proceeded to slather pumpkin mush all over her face. 

"That's supposed to go _in_ your mouth, not around it." The remark earned him a handful of gooey carrots and peas flung in his general direction. The aim was good. The rest could be worked on.

"Thank you, but I have my own food." he countered drily and dug into his steak. 

 Afterwards, it was time for another shopping trip. Maggie had outgrown almost all her clothes and frankly, he could use another shirt and some socks. And gloves, too. The cart was loaded with a plethora of outfits when he steered it towards the check-out area. Since it was growing colder with fall approaching quickly he'd stocked up on warm clothing especially, and since Maggie was apparently serious about walking, there was also a first pair of shoes, which were striped in blue and white and had bows on top. The lady at the check-out was just getting through the mountain of clothes when Maggie's face scrunched up in that way that told him she was gearing up for a substantial hurl.

"No." he said, very softly. Maggie looked up at him a moment, expression growing rapidly queasier. Her cheeks puffed out as if on their own accord.

"Uuuugh." she wailed quietly and miserably. The lady threw him a commiserating look while removing the tags from a long-sleeved dark blue dress with matching coat. 

"Please don't." he insisted, rocking Maggie on his hip. There was no way he could reach any wiping implement in time, but that didn't stop him from rummaging through his pockets with his other hand. 

"Urrgh." Maggie murmured, pressing her face to his neck, and he felt the warm, sticky and slightly smelly wetness seep through his shirt and run down his shoulder not a moment after. At least it hadn't been the metal one. He gave a resigned sigh, patting Maggie's back gently when she burped a bit. The check-out lady offered him a handkerchief. 

"It's okay, I love doing the laundry." he decreed plaintively, reaching for the handkerchief with his free hand, thanking the lady. 

At least Maggie had the sense to be efficient and filled up her diaper while he paid for their stuff. He suppressed a groan, though not very successfully. 

"There are restrooms just around the corner, just turn right when you exit and you'll see it." the check-out lady advised him sympathetically, and he thanked her again, gathered up the shopping bags, and took off. The restrooms were indeed right were she had described. The problem was that there was no changing station except inside the ladies room. He looked down at his heavily frowning baby, who was writhing uncomfortably, sighed, steeled himself, and pushed open the door hesitantly. There seemed to be no one around, which made him sigh again, in relief this time. He spotted the changing station right away and made a beeline for it, kicking his shopping bags underneath and setting down his backpack before sitting Maggie down on the surface. 

"Excuse me, but what do you think you're doing?" an imperious voice sounded from a few feet away, making him jump almost three feet in the air and reaching for the knife he kept concealed at his hip. The voice belonged to an older woman, hair more grey than any color it might have been at some point and hard mouth with downward corners. 

"What does it look like?" he barks, more harshly than he should but certainly no more harshly than he intended. The woman didn't falter or shrink back, he had to give her that. 

"This is the _Ladies Room_." she pointed out, unnecessarily. There was the sound of a toilet flushing in the background, but James barely paid it any heed as he was still busy engaging the grey-haired woman in a staring match. 

"It might surprise you, but there are no changing stations in the men's, so if you don't mind I'm just going to change my daughter's diaper and be on my merry way." 

The woman was just about to deliver another no doubt scathing reply when she was interrupted by another, younger woman rounding the corner from the where the stalls were situated. 

"What's the matter?" the newcomer asked, gently tugging the hand of a little boy who couldn't have been older than four at most. 

"Mommy, look at the baby!" the boy chirped delightedly, yanking at his mother's hand when he spotted Maggie, who stopped clutching her feet to give the other child a wide grin. 

"Isn't it obvious?" the older woman hissed, waving rudely at James as if he wasn't standing right there and able to hear every word.

"Oh  for f- my God!" the younger woman exclaimed, obviously trying hard not to swear. "He's just changing the diaper. You need to get over yourself, lady." James sent the young mother a silent cheer. 

"Well, doesn't the baby have a mother who can do that? It's indecent!" 

"Obviously she does not." James supplied with a voice he strained to keep free of the desire for murder. The young woman rolled her eyes. Her son was making silly faces at Maggie, which made her giggle. All in all, the two children seemed completely oblivious to the tension in the room. 

"Seriously, it's 2014. More dads should be this involved if you ask me." the young woman said, sending James a conspiratory wink. He managed a small appreciative smile for her even through his annoyance.  The little boy didn't stop making faces at Maggie even as he was steered towards the sinks by his mother to was his hands, same as the old woman didn't stop arguing. James tried not to let it affect him as he busied himself with stripping Maggie out of her soiled clothing and changing her diaper. He always had another change for back-up in his backpack, and an extra shirt for himself, but he wouldn't exactly strip off right there. The old woman didn't seem to intend to leave anytime soon, and the young mother was already walking her son towards the exit, though not without giving the other lady a piece of her mind still. She sent him an encouraging grin and he mouthed a small 'Thank you' over his shoulder and then she was gone, leaving James alone with what must have been the human equivalent of a fire-breathing dragon and his half-changed baby. 

"Are you gonna stand watch there until I'm done here or what?" he ground out unwillingly, giving the woman a filthy glare as she looked down her nose at him while she pretended to rummage through her handbag. She didn't grace him with an answer. James made an effort to breathe evenly. He felt the rage begin to boil under his skin, threatening to spill and consume him. In all those months he hadn't felt this kind of wrath, with none of the HYDRA agents he confronted. Some of them had tortured him, made him from human into something hollow, and yet the desire for murder when he faced those men was in no way equal to what he felt right now. He even went so far as to theorize how he might end that miserable hag's life with a handful of diapers. Maybe he could shove them down her throat, suffocate her, slowly - it wouldn't be pleasant.

In his rage he doesn't pay as much attention, isn't as careful as he would usually be. His hands are still nimble and gentle as they change Maggie's diaper, but his sleeve snags and rides up, revealing the telling gleam of metal underneath. He pulls it back down harshly, levelling another death glare at the woman, but he can tell she saw. He briefly considers killing her after all, but that would be counterproductive. Besides, he isn't that person anymore, can't be, for Maggie's sake, for his own, even for Steve. Hoping that the woman won't know what to make of what she saw, he gathers up his stuff and returns Maggie to her place on his hip, looking at the woman darkly and rather threateningly until he is out of the restroom. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is what I do instead of homework. does this count as studying English grammar though?  
> anyway, hope you all have a lovely weekend^^


	14. Point

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back to Sharon and the gang, you know the drill ;)

Sharon had never assumed it would be easy. She knew that a mountain of painstaking, nitpicky, seemingly pointless work would be required of her and everyone in her team, with not exactly a great chance of success, but that daunting prospect had never once managed to deter her in her ambition to find Bucky Barnes. Rationally, Sharon Carter knew all these things but she couldn't help feeling discouraged after a thorough search of every source of intel open to them had yielded precious little returns. What use was it to them to know that he had been through Missouri at one point and offed an ex-HYDRA scientist in Nebraska after? 

Sharon took the old photo Aunt Peggy had given her on her last visit out of where it was tucked discreetly into the back of her bag and glared at Sgt. Barnes' smiling face. 

"I'm only trying to help you." she muttered irritably. "So where the bloody hell are you?" 

Predictably, there was no reply from the decades-old photograph and Sharon sighed and tucked it back into its place. They had actually made quite a bit of headway and on the desk before her was a list of places and dates, together with the names of both former and current HYDRA affiliates who had vanished or died in the months prior. There were some they couldn't be sure about, but all in all it was actually quite a good list, and it gave them a rather clear idea where Barnes _had been_ up until they'd discovered the mangled body in Wisconsin. 

 Sharon was just about to call it a night and curl up with a tub of ice cream and the phone to rant to her aunt when Kelly and Adam came to a skidding halt outside of her office and squabbled a moment over who got to announce the no doubt thrilling news that had them racing across half of Quantico. 

Sharon smiled indulgently at her panting colleagues. They were both still so young and eager and had gotten incredibly invested in the case. They were also quite possibly suffering from a caffeine overdose at this point. 

"How about you catch your breath first." she suggested, waving them inside where they plopped down on the chairs in front of her desk, still heaving subtly. 

"Got a lead on the Soldier." Adam started.

"South Dakota." Kelly supplied. 

"Just in." 

"Ladies' Room-" 

"Description fits-"

"Metal left arm!"

"And the baby!"

Their voices had gradually gotten louder and more excited and the words spoken more cryptic, so Sharon saw herself forced to shush her rookies and tell them to calm down and tell her the whole story from the beginning. As it turned out a local woman, a certain Mrs Preston, had called in a possible sighting of the Winter Soldier in the Ladies' restroom in a mall in South Dakota, close to the border to Wyoming. There seemed to have been some verbal altercation in said restroom in the process of which the suspect's sleeve rode up to reveal the metal plating on his left arm. All less than an hour ago. 

"So this Mrs Preston, can we talk to her?" Sharon asked. 

"She's still at the sheriff's station where she made her report. We can get them on the line right now." Kelly beamed, pushing a piece of paper with the telephone number across the desk. Sharon smiled and allowed herself a glimmer of hope. If this lead turned out to be genuine it would be a huge step closer to her goal. 

 "Mail them the pictures we have so we can confirm this." Sharon ordered while dialing the number and waiting for the line to connect. 

Not ten minutes later and they are comfortably set up with a video call, allowing Sharon to see the person she is talking to. Mrs Preston looks equal parts rattled and irked, with a side of guilt. 

"Maybe I overreacted," Mrs Preston said while thoughtfully regarding a print-out of the sketch Kelly had had made, "I mean, I know there aren't any changing stations outside the Ladies' Restrooms, but... in that moment I felt like a space that I considered safe had been invaded. I didn't even see the arm until later. He wore a glove and long sleeves, you see." 

Sharon nodded patiently, motioning for the woman to continue with her account.

"It was very fast. I only saw a flash of it and then he'd pulled the sleeve back down again. And I thought, it's probably just a regular prosthetic, don't work yourself up - these things are getting more and more advanced, but then I remembered the footage from Washington. I mean I only saw a bit of his forearm, but with the way it looked, the plating and all, that was just the same. The hair was shorter, too, but the build was too similar. I have an eye for these things you know. Anyway, I know what I saw, then again reason tells me it was probably nothing, just a coincidence. In any case I couldn't let it rest, so I came here to make a report. If it's nothing... It probably _is_ nothing, I mean why would a wanted terrorist tour the Midwest with a baby? That's absurd!" Mrs Preston let out a slightly hysterical laugh, then smoothed out the sheet of paper, which had become a bit crumpled in her grip. "I had convinced myself that it wasn't anything to worry, but then you called and started asking me all these questions, and I can't help but think: Did I really see the Winter Soldier in a public restroom?"

"No." Sharon was quick to say. Even though the woman had identified Barnes clearly they didn't want to confirm this and start a mass hysteria or something of that sort. "No, Mrs Preston, this man is a person of interest because we have reason to believe that he is an important witness. Your speaking with us is helping us a great deal, so thank you."

"Oh goodness, he's on the run, isn't he? Oh dear, what about the little baby girl?" Mrs Preston was growing frazzled again and Sharon had to spend a few more minutes to reassure the woman until she could end the conversation and disconnect the line. 

"Please tell me you have a car or something." she then said to Adam, who had been working his tech magic in the background the whole time. He smiled brightly with accomplishment and lack of sleep.

"I have a car and a motel." he announced triumphantly. Sharon sighed in relief and lifted her phone to request a set of flights for them as soon as possible. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in my mind, Kelly and Adam are like siblings to each other and both have a massive crush on Sharon


	15. I Am Done

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> finally Sam and Steve come into the picture

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so nervous about this chapter you don't even know. and I know it seems like a bit of a departure from the main plot. it is, but ... yeah, it'll all come together in the end  
> I hope

Nothing. Around half a year of searching - nothing. They've been to Europe and back, running after every hint Natasha's file would yield, still nothing. Not a trace of the Winter Soldier, much less of the man he was before. If anything, he seems to have gotten even better at being a ghost. Sam feels the chase catching up to him, physically, mentally. If he's completely honest with himself he'd reached the end of his rope a while back already; it was pure stubbornness that kept him going up until this point, but now he's done. He feels like he could plop down right there in that creepy abandoned ruin of a former HYDRA facility and not move for a fortnight. Steve eyes him dubiously, eyes bloodshot and feverish and sunken with deep dark circles underneath. Sam knows he doesn't look much better himself. The difference at this point is that Steve is running on his fancy jacked up serum-enhanced metabolism and 70 years worth of survivor's guilt (how he even managed to rack up those despite having been on ice for most of them is anyone's guess, but somehow he did). Sam closes his eyes for a moment, screws them shut tightly. He knew, rationally, that none of this would ever bring Riley back, but he'd hoped that it would at least help him put his best friend's ghost to rest. It had not.

"Steve, enough." he hisses tiredly. What Sam hadn't anticipated was the incredible wrath coiling deep in the pit of his stomach like a rattlesnake, ready to strike. He'd always had a great deal of patience, his mom used to say that he'd been born with his center properly weighted, whatever that was supposed to mean. He knew annoyance, of course, frustration too, but real searing anger was something he hadn't learnt until later. For a moment he genuinely wished he was twelve years old again and helping his mother make her special chocolate chip cookies, wished he'd never met Steve, never even met Riley. The anger is burning him up inside, pulsing underneath his skin now. He'd thought he'd left that behind for good. He'd worked so hard and so long to learn to let go, now it seems to all have been in vain. Back at square one. All that's missing are the bandages on his skin and the specific smell of a field hospital. A small part of him wants to take a good swing at Steve's jaw for pulling him into this, stirring up everything again, but he has enough presence of mind left to know that this isn't really Steve's fault, or maybe he's just too exhausted.

"Steve!" he calls again, harshly, finally making the other man look around. Maybe it's lucky they didn't find Barnes yet, or he might have done something he'd later regret, like deck that bastard one for each foot he'd thrown him down from that Helicarrier. One for every night since spent on rickety motel beds or even camping out, all of which felt more comforting than they should. He'd worked so hard to get used to his bed again.

"I can't do this anymore. I need a break. I need a fucking break! I'm done! I've reached my breaking point and I need.to.go.home!"

Sam's voice had gotten louder with each word, echoing hollowly around the cracked walls until it broke on the last word.

"Sam..." Steve started, but was promptly cut off. Sam knows, of course, that none of this is Barnes' fault either, but he finds himself back spiraling down into that dark place that he expended his energy on escaping from for the better part of the last few years. Maybe if there had been some HYDRA goons here to sink his fists into he'd be able to deal with this more productively, as it is he can only make one last push to pull himself back from the brink and in this case that means going home, leaving this fruitless manhunt behind for a while, maybe pamper himself a little.

"No!" he almost shouts, which he isn't exactly proud of. Then again he has very little to be proud of these days. "No, Steve! There is no trace. We're poking around in the dark and I can't do it anymore! I need a break!" he pushes his hands over his burning eyes before adding, more softly, "And so do you."

Steve is rendered speechless. He opens his mouth a few times, but no sound comes out. Eventually he gives up. Sam can see the world of pain behind those blue eyes, the exhaustion, the doubt.

"I haven't even spoken to Peggy ...since-" he eventually murmurs with a voice so small it would be better fit to a scruffy ten-year-old. Sam breathes a sigh of deep relief.

"Thank you."


	16. At a Loss for Bunnies and Conviction

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we're more than halfway through, guys, gals and folks not conforming to the gender binary

After the restroom incident, James didn't even stay the night at their current accomodation of choice, a roadside motel that had been in possession of the same family for the sixth generation now. With the risk of the irate woman calling the authorities on him he couldn't waste a moment in packing up and getting as much distance as possible between himself and Maggie and the chance of anyone picking up their trace. He didn't even realize that Bunny was missing until they were more than a whole state away. It was neither in any of the bags nor the car itself, and he knew for a fact that Bunny had been there when he'd put Maggie to sleep the previous night at the motel. Maggie was devastated; she wouldn't stop crying and could not be consoled with any other toy, not even the puppy plushie. 

"I'm so sorry, my darling." he crooned softly, attempting to rock the upset child to sleep. She had developed what the clever parenting book called 'separation anxiety' and since he couldn't bear to just leave her when she was crying he had to wait until she was asleep. And to top off all that her teeth had started bothering her again after a period of calm. Five little tiny, surprisingly sharp baby teeth and counting.

Maggie continued to chew on her teething ring morosely, a slightly accusing expression on her round little face as he hummed a lullaby and rocked on his heels. There was a house not two miles further into the woods that he needed to infiltrate, but Maggie's fussiness was beginning to chip away at that plan. But the intel that house yielded was worth perhaps enough to buy his freedom from the powers that be, the ones that now hunted HYDRA and especially their little attack dog, the Winter Soldier. James was under no illusion that someone would catch up to him sooner or later, and he wanted to have as many trumps up his sleeve as possible when that time came. Apart from the fact that he couldn't bear to be locked up anywhere again he certainly couldn't leave Maggie behind. Maggie who was now hurling the teething ring through the open passenger door of their current vehicle, hitting the gear shift with an accuracy that made his heart swell with pride just a little bit and nuzzling her face into the crook of his neck, a sure sign that she was calming down finally. James hugged her close, continuing to hum and sway until her breathing evened out and the little hand that had clutched the collar of his shirt unclasped and fell down limply. He held her a few more minutes just to be sure, then gently buckled her into the car seat and draped a blanket over her so she wouldn't get cold. Then he retrieved his gear and weapons, turned on the baby monitor and made sure it was properly connected to his comms and placed a tender kiss on Maggie's forehead before locking the car and starting towards the house. 

He didn't expect resistance, that was his first mistake. On first glance the house seemed inconspicuous enough, just a rather fancy mansion set rather deep in the woods far from the center of town. The architecture was modern, or had been just after the war in which Bucky Barnes had died, and most of it was dark. The man who lived in the house was one of HYDRA's topmost bookkeepers, and as such had access to the information James really wanted: the name and location of the man known only as 'The Accountant', the mastermind behind the organization's funds and properties. Delivering the Accountant would effectively cripple HYDRA's operations at least on the American continent, whether he would choose to cooperate or not, so this was a pretty good bargaining chip as far as James was concerned. He squatted down in the bushes at the edges of the property and watched for a while, soundless and motionless. There didn't seem to be much in the way of security, not even a guard dog. If there were electronic systems he could dismantle them easily enough; his training had been very thorough after all. He squatted in the bushes for a good half hour, and it took him most of that time to realize he had been listening more intently to the sound of Maggie's even breathing and occasional sleepy gurgle in his earpiece than his immediate surroundings. James shook himself, focusing his attention fully on the house in front of him, and moved. He slunk through the shadows like he'd done countless times, skills honed and refined through decades. The alarm system was a piece of cake and he let himself inside. The house was quiet and dark from the inside, too. He could faintly make out the dim light from a room on the top floor, spilling down the stairway through a door that must have been slightly ajar. His enhanced hearing picked up the sound of music - classical, it might have been Schubert - crooning faintly from a record player. James remembered the distinct sound of vinyl. 

He weaved his way through the shadows, checking the rooms on the ground level until he found the office. It was almost laughably easy to slip inside and rifle through the records. The bookkeeper was a conscientious man and kept all files on paper as well as digitally. His filing system was neat and easy to navigate, which meant that James found what he was searching for in no time flat. He pocketed the paper file on the Accountant, then plugged in a flashdrive to the computer while stray notes of Schubert still occasionally drifted through to him. He copied all he could onto the flash drive and disconnected it, pocketing it and removing all traces of his ever being there. 

And then he heard glass breaking. 

James knew he was fast. The only person ever to match his speed had been the man on the bridge. _Steve_ , he corrected himself while crashing through the undergrowth. He ran the two miles between the house and where he'd left the car, lungs and muscles burning even from the short distance, but it didn't feel like he was fast enough. He heard a small disgruntled yelp, then a fearful cry and a curse through his earpiece, and then he was already there. 

The man held Maggie at arm's length, shaking her small frame and cursing at her while she cried and kicked angrily. James raised his gun, but his hand was shaking. 

"Don't." he said darkly to the man, disengaging the safety. With a vile grin, the man finally acknowledged him. 

"Didn't think you'd really be here, asset." he snarled, now pressing Maggie to his chest with one arm and procuring a gun of his own with the other. He pressed the nuzzle against Maggie's temple, but an angry swipe knocked it away. The man tutted disapprovingly and continued pointing the weapon at Maggie's head, but now with some distance. 

"She bit me, you know?" The man, undoubtedly a HYDRA guard, commented. James allowed himself a split second of pride before speaking.

"Let her go." He had to raise his voice over Maggie's angry sobs, but he knew the other man understood him perfectly well. He also knew that it wouldn't be that easy. 

"I don't think so," the guard replied smugly, "There's a pretty prize on both your heads, you know." He had trouble holding the baby since she was still squirming and kicking for all it was worth. One forceful kick even came dangerously close to hitting the solarplexus. The guard only gripped her tighter in response, making her yelp in pain and surprise. James felt his hands shaking more now. If he took the shot he couldn't be sure it would hit home. He might even accidentally harm Maggie, and she already had a few cuts from the broken car window. And he was too far away for any other move; the guard would shoot Maggie before he reached him. 

"Dead or alive." the guard added, as if having read his thoughts. "They'd prefer alive, naturally, but they're more interested in you than this." 

James felt himself freeze, his teeth bare in a silent snarl, but he didn't dare move a muscle. The guard still grinned at him sardonically and Maggie was still writhing and fussing in his grip, though she had quieted down a bit. James felt a pricking at the corners of his eyes as he looked at his little girl, in a danger she couldn't even comprehend yet through his fault. He had been careless, he realized now. Not only in checking the perimeter but in going on this petty little revenge trip at all. He had put her innocent life in harm's way, as of he didn't have enough lives weighing on his conscience already. 

"I'm so sorry, peanut." he murmured softly, his shaking hand with the gun in it lowering a bit as if on its own accord. Maggie looked up at him hopefully a moment before her gaze drifted. 

"Surrender." the guard ordered, but James was too focused on Maggie to pay him much mind. She had stopped scrabbling at the arm gripping her and put her hands over her eyes. 

"Boo." she mouthed soundlessly, then gave James a pointed look. James stared at her dumbly, puzzled.

"You're not getting out of this one, asset." the guard snarled again, pressing the nuzzle of his firearm against Maggie's head again, though only for a second. She barely seemed to notice that as she was still engaged in her little charade of peek-a-boo. Was it a message? It had to be. Maggie was trying to tell him something. The guard in front of him matched James in height almost to the inch, and his eyes betrayed nothing. 

"Boo." Maggie cooed again, hands uncovering her eyes demonstratively. It struck him that the guard in front of him was likely not operating alone. And then James heard the noise behind him. 

There was a soft clicking noise, directly behind him. It was so close that the person had to be standing not a foot away, and he briefly was impressed that they had been able to sneak up on him like that in the first place. At last there was a flicker on triumph in the other man's eyes, and his grip on Maggie slackened in anticipation. James was sure he felt the air warp around the bullet fired at the back of his head, he certainly felt it rush by his face as he flinched away at the last possible second, and it hit the other man instead, right between the eyes. James whirled around, wrenching the shooter's arm away roughly before grabbing him by the neck and giving a twist, snapping it. The two HYDRA guards hit the ground at almost the exact same time. 

He stood panting a moment, staring down at the man he'd just killed with wide eyes. A small noise snapped him out of it, and he ran over to where Maggie had tumbled to the ground, not sparing a single glance at the other dead man. He gently picked the baby up, cradling her trembling body against his chest. She immediately fisted her small hands into the fabric of his shirt, hiccuping tearfully. 

"I am so sorry, my darling." he whispered, again and again, hugging her close until she at last stopped shaking and settled down and fell asleep against his chest. 


	17. Come Together

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for reference, this chapter and the previous one with Sam and Steve take place pretty much simultaneously, while Bucky's last chapter happened just before that  
> are you confused yet?  
> also I am taking an exam tonight, that I haven't studied for. Instead I wrote this (and the next chapter).

Sharon had missed this, the thrill of the chase. If she was quite honest with herself she hadn't felt this kind of elation since before her assignment as Captain Rogers' security detail (and maybe that one time during that when a group of neo nazis had tried to break in and kidnap the Captain and she'd pummelled them around the apartment building). After the lead from South Dakota it had been almost easy to follow Barnes' trail, and his head start was melting away continuously. By now, she reckoned she was no more than a day behind him.

Sharon was doing the heavy lifting, or rather driving, while Kelly and Adam stayed behind at HQ and served as her eyes and ears. She was just now pulling into the parking lot of a quaint little roadside motel, family owned like the one in South Dakota where she'd gotten the details on Barnes' current vehicle. The car itself wasn't there, but the receptionist confirmed that he had a room there, and upon being shown Sharon's badge led her right to it.

"He's not here though." the receptionist remarked as Sharon made to knock. "Left a little more than an hour ago." 

"I don't suppose the baby is in there all alone?" she asked, lowering her hand. Not that she expected this to be the case, but on the odd chance that it was it would give her pretense to break down the door. The receptionist shook her head no. 

"Thank you, that will be all."

After the other woman had shuffled away reluctantly, Sharon reached into her bag and pulled out the old photograph and a stack of post-its. She had prepared a small note beforehand, and now added her room number before sticking it on the photo and then pushing that through the narrow gap underneath the door. Now she could only hope and wait. 

Sharon had taken the room just across the hall, which gave her a good vantage point to observe Barnes' door. To any outside observer it would probably seem nothing short of reckless that she was pursuing the most skilled assassin in recent history alone, but she had faith in the man he had been before, and the man he seemed to be growing into now. In truth Sharon had never intended to take James Barnes in and deliver him to her superiors, which also meant that she would have to start looking for a new job really soon. She set down her stuff, quickly freshened up a bit in the small bathroom, then took up her station, pulling the little stuffed bunny she'd found in Barnes' last motel room out of her pocket and setting it down beside her equipment. 

It was nearing midnight and Sharon had actually dozed off a bit in her room. Apparently the hours of driving had exhausted her more than she'd liked to admit and the dimmed light and late hour weren't exactly helping either. Her head snapped up when she heard heavy footfalls ascend the stairs and walk down the hallway. She got up quietly and peered through the spyhole. Outside, James Barnes trudged down to his room slowly. He seemed weary, burnt out though seemingly not injured, with deep shadows under bloodshot, haunted eyes. There was a pinch in his brow and tension in his broad shoulders that was just about tangible, and he looked gaunt and pale as he leant against the wall a moment, screwing his eyes shut and hugging the little bundle in his arms gently. He had her wrapped up in a warm blanket so that not much more than a few tufts of soft brown hair peeked out. Barnes breathed deeply, then pressed a soft kiss to the baby's forehead and reached for his room keys. Sharon's breath hitched in her throat. For a second she had the notion of going out there, confronting the man now, but that might do more harm than good. He was obviously rattled and there was no telling how he would react to a stranger jumping at him in the middle of the night. Sharon knew she'd react less than favorably in such a situation, and she didn't have decades worth of trauma and abuse to deal with. Besides, this was precisely why she had written the note in the first place, and attached it to the old photo to prove that her intentions were genuine. 

Barnes struggled a bit with holding the baby while fumbling with the key at the same time, but eventually he succeeded, weakly knocking the door open. For a moment Sharon thought he might not even notice the photo on the floor in front of him, seemingly distracted and exhausted as he was, but he did a double take after the first few shuffling steps inside. He didn't pick the message up immediately, rather opting to vanish further inside the room and set the baby and his backpack down, but came back into view after a minute and bent down, fingers brushing hesitantly against the worn carpet as he picked up the photo with the post-it note. His eyes moved over the words a few times, as if he needed several tries to decipher the meaning behind the letters, then he looked up sharply. Sharon recoiled a bit, her heart pounding rapidly. Barnes rose and started toward her door, but changed his mind mid-movement and silently closed his own door with a sigh. Sharon heard the lock click and then a sort of scraping sound, as if of someone moving furniture. He must have blocked the door from the inside. 

\---

James sat silently, staring at the old photograph while he listened to the sound of Maggie's even breathing. Funnily enough he remembered the exact moment it was taken, after the newly formed Howling Commandos had just gotten back from their first mission. The note that had been attached to it lay next to him on the small nightstand, one corner crumpled where he had gripped it. It had been a long time since anyone had addressed him as Sergeant Barnes. 

Still, there is a slight panic that rises, clawing up his throat and curling tightly around his pounding heart. The feeling would be stronger if he were not as absolutely exhausted as he presently is, but it's still there, adding to the reasons why he cannot sleep. The note is signed with 'S. Carter', which feels familiar and evokes a sense of trust in him, but he wouldn't still be alive if he trusted easily. He spares a glance at the door and the chair and table he's placed in front of it to feel safer. This person catching up to him just had to coincide with this particular night, didn't it?

James sighs, running a hand over his face and rubbing his burning eyes. He's been sitting there in the dim half-light for a couple of hours now, and perhaps he is not in the best condition to make decisions, but nonetheless he gets up, grabbing a pen, and makes his way to the room across the hall. 

He'd meant to just pass the note, on which he has written a response, under the door like he had found it on his side, but now his curiosity is becoming overbearing. Quietly he listens for a moment, to make sure that the person on the other side of that door is asleep, then slinks back to retrieve something with which he can pick the lock and let himself in. 

Once inside, he allows his eyes a moment to adjust. The layout of the room is the same as his. A quick look around reveals a duffel bag that hasn't been unpacked and some surveillance equipment on the table. The bed is still made, but some creases in the sheets indicate that someone at least sat on it. Other than that the room was conspicuously empty. This was odd; he hadn't heard anyone leave. At this late hour, with every normal person asleep, he was sure he would have. 

A splash from behind the bathroom door startled him back into attention. He placed the post-it on the table and left swiftly. 

\---

Sharon had, against her better judgment decided to take a bath. There hadn't been so much as a peep from Barnes after he'd vanished inside his room, and although she was determined to keep up her observation - lest he decide to leave and slip through her grasp again - she was also keenly aware of the tired ache in her body, so if she wasn't going to sleep she resolved to at least grant herself a moment of relaxation in hot water. And of course she'd dozed off. She might have slept right there in the tub until the water cooled had she not slipped downwards gradually, only to start awake violently when the water rose up her nose. 

Once the immediate threat of drowning was banned, Sharon quickly stepped out of the now tepid water and wrapped herself in a towel. She stopped a moment to listen, but there wasn't a sound to be heard outside. She donned her fluffy bathrobe and exited the bathroom, flicking on one of the bedside lamps. The temptation to just lie down and sleep was great, but she pulled herself together and decided to check her phone for any messages from her team. The phone lay on the table; she had replaced it there after packing the stuffed bunny toy back into her bag. She stopped mid-yawn when her hand came into contact with something sticky. It clung to her finger when she lifted it, puzzled. It was the same post-it note she'd sent James Barnes, a return message scrawled on the back of it.

_'Meet me in the diner across the street. 0800. Alone.'_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> gentle reminder that it's okay and encouraged to leave feedback


	18. Meet and Greet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's all coming together, which means we're nearing the end of our little journey *half-smiley half-frowny face*

The diner was quaint and smelled deliciously of eggs, bacon and toast. Sharon allowed herself a moment to soak in the mouthwatering scent, then scanned the room for Sergeant Barnes. She spotted him in a far corner, baby in his lap and nothing but a cup of coffee in front of him. He didn't look any better than he did the previous night. She walked over to them with measured steps, stopping when Barnes looked up and pinned her in his discerning gaze. 

"I got your note." Sharon stated blankly, "You know, the one you left in my room, which is somewhat creepy."

"Excuse me but out of the two of us, who has been following around whom for almost half a year?" he counters, wiping Maggie's nose. Sharon stares at the baby a moment, then looks back at him, expression inscrutable. On her post-it message, she'd metaphorically bared it all: her ties with SHIELD and the Captain, her recent employment at the Central Intelligence Agency - _'I am here to help you'_ the note had said, now she was silent, waiting and gauging his reaction. He sighs.

"Please have a seat, Miss Carter."

"It's Sharon."

The restaurant isn't full by any means but crowded enough that none of them will try anything funny. Sharon sits across from him in the booth and peers at the child again. She looked healthy, well-fed, bright-eyed and dressed in a cute little red dress with white polka dots, complete with leggings and a knitted cardigan so she wouldn't get cold in the air-conditioned room. She also looked remarkably alike to the man holding her, from her big blue eyes to the curve of the mouth down to the tip of her nose.

"The Captain has been looking for you." Sharon says absently, enthralled despite herself by the baby and her utter fascination with a simple paper napkin that she is turning around in her tiny hands.

"He has?" James replies, eyes widening in genuine surprise a moment. He'd hoped the Captain wouldn't give up on him, but he hadn't actually counted on it.

"I didn't really want to be found." he admits plaintively.

"Yeah, I noticed that."

The baby had started ripping at the napkin now, only it turned out to be more sturdy than she'd anticipated and she ended up knocking herself in the face with one little fist as she wrestled it and let out a dismal cry.

"Hey, hey, it's okay," James soothed her immediately, gently wiping a few escaped tears away and hugging the child to his chest. She all but melted into the comforting action, drawing up her little arms as if to hug him back but not managing to wrap them around him properly they were still so short.

"Hush, Maggie, it's all good, it's okay, you're okay, my darling."

"Maggie?" Sharon questioned dumbly, now staring unabashedly at the man and the baby, who gave a couple of hiccupy sobs before settling down again. Still he pressed an affectionate little kiss on the baby's forehead and continued rubbing her back soothingly.

"Sorry, did you say something?"

"You named her Maggie?" Sharon said blankly.

"It's short for Margaret. I know it's probably a bit old-fashioned but-"

"I know what name Maggie derives from." Sharon interrupts more harshly than she intended. "Why did you name her that?"

"I... It was someone I used to know, before. I'm not even sure who; most of that is still a blur to me. It just ...fit, somehow." James confessed bashfully.

"My aunt."

"I'm sorry, come again?"

"The person you named her after is my aunt, Margaret 'Peggy' Carter. She fought in the war with you." Sharon breathes a moment, falling silent as a waiter approaches except to order. "I got the photo from her, the one I gave you. She's on it, too."

"Oh." he says, a flash of recognition flitting across his face. There had been a Peggy Carter in the museum exhibit in Washington, giving an interview on a video screen. She had seemed vaguely familiar then. And when he'd stared at the photo the night before, he knew that he knew the woman, but was unable to pin a name to the face. His brain really was a mess-

"So what changed?"

"Sorry what?"

"You said you didn't want to be found. Now we're sitting here. What changed?"

He shifts Maggie's weight on his arm a little so that she can look around more freely again. The child takes full advantage of that fact by appraising Sharon conscientiously, giving a shy smile when she is done. Sharon finds herself returning the gesture surreptitiously, before realizing that Barnes has yet to answer her question. He clears his throat, opening his mouth to speak but closing it again when the waiter returns with their food. 

"I assume you've followed my ...recent exploits." he says cautiously. 

"As best we could." she nods, "I feel bad, I didn't get you anything." This almost elicits a smirk. 

"Well, I suppose you'll agree that this isn't exactly the proper environment for raising a child." he continues, pensively. He looks brittle then, strained. Sharon finds herself wondering when he last had a good night's sleep. Probably sometime in the last century. 

"You said you wanted to help me. I don't know what would compel you to do that, but I just can't do this anymore. I... I want to turn myself in." 

Sharon takes a moment to swallow this, transparently buying herself time by attacking her waffles. Barnes still hasn't touched his food, but nudges it away as the baby tries to reach for it. He can't deliver himself to the authorities though. 

"They'd persecute you and put her in foster care, at best. At worst..." she trails off, but he takes her meaning without trouble. He hugs Maggie to his chest a bit closer.

"I'm tired of running." he says simply, brokenly. "I have intel on HYDRA that you'll want, too. Maybe an arrangement can be reached..." He reaches to the seat beside him and places a manila folder atop the table. "These are the details on the Accountant, HYDRA's main treasurer. He controls their entire funding. Take him in and you'll cripple them substantially. I have more that I can offer you..." 

His voice trails off when she places her hand atop his, squeezing soothingly. 

"It won't make a difference. They're looking for a scapegoat. You turn yourself in, you won't get out of it." she decrees gravely. Barnes withers, crumpling in on himself. The facade of bravado he barely managed to maintain falls before her very eyes, revealing the broken wreck of a man underneath. Sharon is sure that if not for the child, he wouldn't resist that grim prospect at all. 

"You need a place to lay low," she begins earnestly, digging around in the depths of her purse until she finds what she is looking for. She places a set of keys on top of the folder, explaining that these belong to her old apartment from when she'd been assigned to the Captain. 

"Go there," she implores, "It's safe."

He eyes the keys warily. "Steve will be there." 

"He's probably not even home, seeing as he's looking far and wide for you." That had been the wrong thing to say. James' brow sets in that hard pinch again and he stiffens visibly, making Maggie give a little noise of protest and alarm. Sharon exhales deeply, taking the keys and wrapping his fingers around them. 

"Either way you should go, and if he's there you should talk to him at least. He still cares, and I'm sure he'll help you." 

Barnes seems unconvinced, his fingers trembling slightly beneath her hand. She squeezes them again reassuringly. "Do it for Maggie's sake if not for your own."

That seals the deal. James exhales slowly and deliberately before nodding in acquiescence. Sharon finds herself smiling brightly. She'll have a lot of explaining to do both to her current boss and Maria Hill, when she calls her after this, begging for a job and protection, but it's worth it. 

"Oh, I almost forgot!" she exclaims, ripping them both out of the moment, digging through her purse again and producing the little stuffed bunny. "I found this." 

The Sergeant's mouth actually drops open, and little Maggie lets out an exuberant squeal upon spotting her beloved toy again, reaching for it so eagerly that she almost tips the Sergeant's still untouched plate. In fact, she looks just about ready to launch herself across the table. Sharon grins and hands the toy back, and Maggie clutches it tightly, beaming with unabashed joy and laughing happily. It makes Sharon feel all warm and fuzzy inside, even more so when James' face actually breaks out in a proper, genuine smile. He looks almost exactly like the Bucky Barnes she knew from old photos and newsreels then. It fills her with hope to see. 

"I don't know how to thank you, Agent Carter."

"Talk to Steve." she replies simply. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> one more chapter and then an epilogue  
> last chapter is probably gonna be longer again; I'm still working on it zhough and it might be a while :(


	19. Punctuality was never my forte

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is it, my friends. end of the line. thanks for the ride. stay tuned for a little epilogue ;)

James can sense so falsity in Sharon Carter, and he insists on giving her the suicase full of intel he's acquired in his hunt, even though she tries to refuse. Also she at no point questioned his decision to raise Maggie, or his aptitude for the task, which he appreciates greatly. A few days later he's steering the car back towards Washington DC, and arrives at the address the agent gave him in the late afternoon. He vaguely recognizes the place as the apartment building where he took down the man with the eye patch, after that target had evaded him in the street. He flinches at the memory and finds himself unsure whether to hope that Steve is there when he arrives or not. As a result of this he sneaks up to Sharon's apartment like a thief in the night. It's still furnished, some durable food left in the pantry and freezer, two bedrooms - cozy. He moves their stuff in and baby-proofs the place, sets up one of the bedrooms for Maggie, scouring the corridors like he's still on mission with each hauling things up the stairs, ready to jump and run should he spot Steve. He does not. 

\---

"I think there might be someone moving in next door again." Steve said casually, pointing to the unknown car when Sam pulls back into the lot at his apartment building. It had taken some convincing, but eventually Sam had moved the Captain to visit his parents and allow himself some pampering in the shape of roast beef and apple pie, all homemade, and cookies to go. The car had been there when he first came back and only occasionally vanishes during the day, at least in the few days that's he's been back.

"How d'you know it's next door? They might just be visiting." Sam remarks, considerably better for wear already after a few days of rest and the warmth of his childhood home. In fact, after they'd made it back to the city and their respective places, Sam had slept for a whole day before doing anything else, even calling his mom.

"The apartment across the hall from mine is the only unoccupied one at the moment. Besides, I could have sworn I saw light in there last night."

"Maybe Sharon's back."

"Peggy said she was still working." Steve replies, unconvinced. The strange car has a license plate from California. When he looks up after getting out of the car, there is the light again in what he knows to be formerly Sharon's kitchen. 

"What, you wanna go say hello, bring bread and butter? No wait, it's bread and salt, isn't it?" Sam says, stretching languidly. Steve shakes his head. 

"It's late. Maybe tomorrow."

"You and I have a date with Hill tomorrow. And after you promised Peggy a visit." Sam reminds him. 

"After that, then."

\---

 Sharon Carter was wrong on one account: Steve is most definitely home. James all but dives behind the safety of his apartment door on the way up from the laundry room when he hears the familiar voice on the stairs. Tiny baby socks and a handful of bibs go flying everywhere; it's not one of his prouder moments. 

"Don't look at me like that." he tells Maggie, who has stopped bouncing in her bouncy chair to level her meaningful gaze at him. 

"Guuh." she says sagely and resumes her bouncing, brandishing a rattle. 

"I know, I know." he concedes, stooping to pick up the laundry he scattered. "Tomorrow."

 

Tomorrow comes, and James tries not to let his nerves get to him. He promised Sharon; besides, this crouching in corners and paranoid looking over his shoulder just isn't feasible. He's supposed to have left that behind. He gathers up all his courage, for a moment at least. But then when he hesitantly knocks on Steve's apartment door around 11 am, there is nothing but silence on the other side of it. 

"Oh no, would you look at that, no one's home." he says blankly, trying to sound like he isn't inwardly heaving a deep sigh of momentary relief. Maggie gives him that skeptical look he's almost certain she's inherited, because that's the exact same look his mother would wear when he'd done something he wasn't supposed to, then tried to get out of it. He withers a bit under the scrutiny.

"Well, we'll just try again later." he announces placatingly, and Maggie pats his face with her chubby little hands, like she knows it calms him. Overall, she's much cleverer than her age would probably suggest. 

There is a park nearby, with a playground. It's funny in an absurd way, how what is supposed to be a fight or flight reflex has turned into only flight. Then again it used to be only fight for the previous decades, thanks to HYDRA's conditioning. Also, he isn't really sure what he's fleeing from, only that he is afraid. In any case, Maggie loves the playground, especially the slide and swings, and if it gives him an excuse to be away from Steve's looming presence for a couple of hours ...well, there is no one there to judge him. 

Maggie has seemingly indefinite resources of energy, up until the point where he picks her up from the slide for what has to be the hundredth time and there is a small yawn and the some light pressure on his shoulder where she drops her head and promptly falls asleep. By then it's time for lunch, so James walks the short distance back to the apartment building, keeping his gait fluid and smooth so as not to jostle the sleeping child in his arms any more than strictly necessary. And of course she awakes, completely re-energized, as soon as she smells her lunch. 

It's also when he conveniently realizes that the pantry is empty and they're running out of diapers and baby powder. Or rather, when he discovers that these supplies aren't full to maximum capacity, but that is at present enough to warrant a trip to the store. He ignores Maggie giving him that _look_ again all the way through bundling her up warmly for the second time that day and then deliberately buckles her into the baby sling facing forward so she cannot continue giving him _the look_. 

"You know there's nothing I wouldn't do for you," he explains as he does this, pointedly ignoring _the look_ and the accompanying pout, "I'd just prefer to do this thing _after_ , okay?" 

Maggie harrumphs softly and kicks a bit, but only until her attention is captured by a myriad of things they encounter on their way: dogs being walked, other children, the bright lights at the supermarket, the cashier's brightly dyed hair- They're back again in less than an hour, and James spent the majority of the trip with nerves twice as jittery as he has become used to, so that's when he knows he can't stall any longer without losing his mind. He quickly throws their shopping inside the door of Sharon Carter's undercover apartment, locks again, braces himself and walks up to Steve's door. 

 

James' heart is beating high in his throat as he rings the doorbell. The door opens and a man who is not Steve looks at him a moment, expression changing from muted surprise that anyone would come calling to utter shock as he realizes who it is. The man's mouth actually falls open as he takes in James' figure before him, unassuming enough to the casual observer, and then his eyes get really wide when they fall on the baby strapped to his chest, and the man looks like he's encountered a severe system error.

"Is Steve at home?" James asks flatly and receives a mechanical headshake. No. He forces a polite smile through the flashing memory of throwing the man in front of him over the ledge of a Helicarrier, several hundred feet down. He thought he'd killed him like he'd killed pretty much everyone who'd had the extraordinary bad luck of being in his way that day.

"Well, glad to see you're actually still alive. I'm really sorry about your wings and all that. May I come in?"

The man steps aside, still in a daze, and only snaps back to it when Maggie let's out a sharp wail of discomfort.

"Oh come on, I literally just changed you before coming here. You cannot be serious right now, young lady." James exclaims fondly as he starts to undo the clasps of the baby sling. Maggie stares up at him accusingly, squirming in her puffy giraffe overall. He had indeed had to stop at the store to change her diaper. There is no way she needs another change already. 

"I think she might just be warm." the man suggests timidly from behind him, keeping a distance as he walks around to face them again. Maggie lets out another sharp cry as if to confirm this and James would have facepalmed right there and then had he not been holding her.

"Oh, yes, of course. You're probably right. Thanks."

When he is done peeling Maggie out of the garment, which is admittedly a bit too plush for the comparably mild October day (though it was quite windy outside), the man is still picking his jaw up the floor, staring at them with an expression of complete bewilderment. Maggie shoots him a surreptitious glance, then turns to James' chest with a ferocity that suggests she's trying to burrow into it.

"Sorry, she's a bit shy with strangers. Just give it a few minutes."

The man nods, eyes flicking between James and Maggie. "Please, have a seat." he mutters absently, waving towards the room behind him vaguely, where the bullet holes are still starkly visible in the wall. James grimaces at the memory, how he had spent hours lying on the roof of the opposite building, watching closely for clues that would betray his target's exact location. The man had kept out of sight, wisely. It had only been when Steve came home, visible through the window while talking to the man with the eye patch, that he was finally able to take his cues from Steve's body language and take the shots. James briefly wondered whether the man with the eye patch is also still alive after all, and tries to take that possibility as something to be gladdened by rather than professionally insulted.

"I'm Sam, by the way." the other man offers, already reaching for a cell phone on the coffee table. "Do..um... D'you want me to call Steve? Tell him to come here?"

"Please." James says quietly, finally snapping himself out of the memory and adjusting the squirming baby in his arms. She wants to be let down and explore, her boundless energy and curiosity piqued by the unfamiliar environment. James grips her more tightly and fumbles in his pockets for one of her toys to distract her. This place isn't exactly baby-proofed and with how quickly she moves he doesn't want her to knock something over only to let it fall on her or find the power outlets. Also she just puts everything in her mouth. E-v-e-r-y-t-h-i-n-g.

Sam forces a smile as he holds the phone to his ear, waiting for the line to connect. His voice is hushed as he speaks into the receiver urgently, never letting his eyes stray from the unexpected guests even as he paces down the hallway and out of earshot. Meanwhile Maggie would not be dissuaded even by being bribed with her bunny. She gave an unwilling wail, a sharp and very loud shriek of pure protest, and eventually James relented, placing her feet on the floor but keeping her little hands firmly grasped in his. It's a compromise they can both live with. Gurgling with satisfaction, Maggie starts taking wobbly steps around the room while he holds her upright.

"Yeah that was... You wouldn't believe me if I told you and frankly, I'm not quite sure I can even find the words. Just get your star-spangled ass over here, okay?" Sam's voice sounds from the hallway, louder than the entire conversation preceding this statement. With a sigh and a few words of parting, he hangs up and walks back into the living room.

"Might take a while, traffic's awful this time of day." Sam says, stopping as he sees the former Winter Soldier stooped over somewhat awkwardly, taking miniscule shuffling steps and murmuring encouragements to the little baby girl setting foot in front of wobbly foot with steely determination. She rounds a corner of the coffee table and stops a moment, laughing up at both of them. Sam can't really help but smile back.

"So how old is..." Sam begins hesitantly, but quickly realizes he doesn't even know the baby's name, provided that she has one.

"Maggie is ten months old." James answers softly, attention still on the child, who has resumed her swaying battle with gravity. "Say hello to Sam, peanut."

"Awoo!" Maggie squeals joyously and even attempts a small wave, even though her little hand is still tightly wrapped around one of James' fingers. Sam finds the smiles come more easily now.

 ---

Sam Wilson prided himself in a few things. One of these things was being well grounded in reality, another was dealing well with unfamiliar situations, remaining calm under stress. He felt like the universe might be mocking him right now, because there was no way this was really happening. Just this morning he and Steve had met with Maria Hill to discuss possible new leads; he had actually been looking over the contents of a thick manila folder the agent had given them while Steve was visiting Peggy when the door bell rang. And the person at the door turned out to be the man they'd been searching for these past months. He might have been able to deal with that. Sam Wilson had, after all, helped to take down an international fascist cult that nobody knew still existed. He lived in a world where extraterrestrial life had been impressively and undeniably confirmed; where people could turn into indestructible green giants or fly around in self-made full body armour. He'd jogged with Captain America. He had flown like a bird with actual wings, for crying out loud. Sam Wilson was flexible with his horizons. He could have stomached the former Winter Soldier showing up on Steve's doorstep (and on whose doorstep would he show up if not on that one?), except: the man had a baby. 

Sam wasn't exactly an expert when it came to infants, but he knew enough for some basic calculations, and those included that the events in Washington had taken place less than nine months ago. Take into consideration that the child was already trying to walk, which was something he was pretty sure they didn't do within the first few months, and he'd said she was ten months old. There was no way Barnes had come by this child in the ...most usual way, to put it like that. And yet she looked exactly like him. Their brows were even set in the precise same pinch of utter concentration as the kid navigated the living room, kitchen, and most of the hallway before she was content to be settled on Barnes' lap. Sam didn't know what was going on here, but he guessed HYDRA might be somehow involved. And where the hell was Steve? Traffic couldn't possibly be _that_ bad, could it? At least Barnes didn't seem to mean anyone any kind of harm at present, which Sam found somewhat reassuring. Still, there are so many questions he wants to ask. Has to ask. Most of them are Steve's questions, too, but they can't just sit in tense, awkward silence until he arrives.

 

"Where... umm..." Sam starts, eyes darting from James to the child happily bouncing on his knees, and back up to him, "Where did you learn to change diapers?"

"Wikihow." James states blankly, not breaking his level gaze on the other man as he picks up Maggie's beloved bunny from where she dropped it on the couch and hands it back to her, which earns a delighted squeal.

"Okay..." Sam replied uncertainly, regarding the baby again. James could see him silently mouthing along as he read the words printed on her romper: _I'm not crying, I'm ordering dinner_. Seeing as this was their first time meeting since the Helicarriers, he had reigned himself in and foregone the romper with the Captain America shield symbol printed on it (though he hadn't stopped himself from buying it in the first place).

"It's funny because it's true." he commented blankly, nodding at the letters, then glancing at the clock on the wall behind Sam. "Give it another half hour or so and you'll see."

"Uh-huh."

"Are you usually this articulate?"

Sam's mouth drops open a moment, before he catches himself and allows the amusement to dance across his features. This guy, he decides, really isn't half bad actually. He finds himself glad to have been wrong when he'd said to Steve that the Winter Soldier might not be the kind that could be saved. 

\---

"Sorry, she's only slowly warming up to the concept of spoons." were the words Steve Rogers was greeted by when he returned from visiting Peggy. Peggy had been convinced it was 1944 and insisted that they dance, and traffic had been so awful that it had almost taken one hour extra for him to get back to his apartment, and Sam's enigmatic phone call ( _Listen, just come home. You need to come back immediately!_ ) earlier that day had set him on edge. And now this. A disembodied voice saying strange things. Also he could have sworn he knew that voice. 

"Sam?" he called out hesitantly, setting his keys down in their usual spot by the door and hanging up his jacket. 

"Kitchen." Sam called, then something clattered to the tiled floor and some muffled cursing could be heard. That and a smug little giggle, bright and high-ptched, like from a baby. Which was ridiculous because why would a baby be in his apartment. Whose baby even, Steve didn't know anyone with kids. Maybe Sam had a friend over, he thought, unconvinced. He'd thought, for just a moment earlier, when Sam had called him, that there was a strange noise in the background, but quickly discarded his assumptions on the grounds of them being utterly ridiculous. Now he wasn't so sure anymore. Maybe the year, the search for Bucky and all that preceded that had taken more of a toll on him than Steve liked to admit. He rounded the corner hesitantly. Sam was in the kitchen, sitting at the smallish table in the one chair that faced the door. That much he could process without problems. The rest of the picture that presented itself however... 

 There was a high chair pushed up to the table, in it a baby with soft light brown hair who had apparently made a bit of a mess of her dinner. Her round rosy cheeks were smeared with some kind of orange-y puree, more of which she was eagerly scooping up from a little bowl and into her mouth. And then there was another man seated, his back to Steve. His dark brown hair was comparably short, a bit longer than how he'd worn it back in the 40s and there were several 5 o'clocks worth of shadow on his jaw.

"Bucky?" he breathed, suddenly transported violently to that moment in the street months prior. There was a dreadful moment of hesitation before the man turned around fully in his seat, slowly and with a brittle smile. There was another such moment of apprehension before he found it in him to answer.

"Hey Steve." James rose automatically, Maggie's spoon forgotten in his hand as he closes the distance, stopping short in front of where Steve is rooted to the floor. He grins wryly. "Sorry for being late, you know punctuality was never my forte."

Steve has already pulled him into a tight embrace before he can finish his sentence, and the last two words come out weird as the breath is knocked out of him. It still doesn't feel right that Steve is now taller than him but it doesn't feel wrong.  James feels the corners of his mouth turn upward by a fraction. 

\---

Sam has gone home, content that he won't be dragged out on wild goose chases again anytime soon. Steve is glad of the privacy this new friend affords him without him even having to ask. He thinks back on the morning, and Maria Hill's subtly triumphant smile as she passed them the file. Had she known Bucky was back? He wouldn't put it past her, but wonders how. Unless Sharon called her. It all begins clicking into place as Bucky recounts what he had been up to since dragging Steve out of the Potomac, up until Sharon found him. And now he's hiding out in Sharon's former apartment. He and Sam were never anywhere near him on their search, but it wasn't for naught. They'd found enough sound evidence to exonerate him thrice over in any court of law. He looks down at the baby once again slumbering deeply, curled into Bucky's chest and clutching her bunny toy. She's such a happy, bright child from what he can tell of the last few hours. Bucky had named her after Peggy without even really knowing it, saved her, cared for her, protected her. That is the man he knows. Months of doubt crumble away at the doting gaze the other man has for this baby. 

"Peanut." Steve muses, his voice low so as not to wake the little one. Bucky had already put her in her sleepwear, but hadn't been able to bring himself to let go, which was why she was now so protectively cradled in his arms as he half reclines on Sharon's couch, instead of in her cot and in the room three doors down.

"Huh?" 

"That's what your dad used to call you and your siblings, when you were all still little. I was wondering whether you remembered that." Maggie gurgles sleepily and nuzzles closer, one hand still clutching the bunny, the other holding on to the fabric of Bucky's shirt, whose gaze softens even further. Steve is enamored by her already, and not just because she brought his friend back to him. 

"I guess I must have, deep down." 

 James smiles. For the first time in living memory he can honestly say that he has hope again. The time apart was necessary for him to rediscover what remains of the man when the machine HYDRA built him into was stripped away, but now he is ready to come back, pick up the pieces and start putting them together again. He raises his head and looks over at Steve, who forgave him as soon as he saw him, Steve who never gave up on him. He sends his old friend a grateful smile. 

"So you really want to raise this little girl? All alone?" There is no challenge in Steve's words as he asks this, just a hint of concern. James has no right to demand anything, but there is nothing he wouldn't do for his little girl. 

"Your Ma did it and you didn't turn out too bad." James countered, knowing that Steve couldn't really argue with that, "Besides, I had been hoping I wouldn't be. All alone I mean."

"No," Steve answers, gazing down at the sleeping child fondly, "Of course not, you won't be. Of course."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay, quite long I know. at first I couldn't find a start and then somehow I couldn't stop, but I wanted to end on a hopeful note. Again, thank you for going on this journey with me. We've reached the end of it now (except that little epilogue), and I'd really love to know which were your favourite parts, if you had any. Was there a scene or a line that you especially enjoyed? Looking forward to hearing from you and tahnk you again for all the kudos, bookmarks and subscriptions, and the people who commented already^^


	20. Epilogue

"Are you okay, Buck?"

"Yeah, sure, why wouldn't I be?" he shot back too quickly.

"Really, coz it looks like you're crying." Sam quipped smugly from his other side.

"It's windy." he protested weakly, because his eyes were indeed very damp and there was not really any way of denying it.

"She's gonna be fine." Steve piped up again, clapping a warm, comforting hand over his shoulder. Bucky only just suppressed a great variety of very undignified noises. He was most certainly not fine. He'd been standing on the front porch for almost an hour not being fine. He wanted a time machine.

"She's also gonna be home most weekends and besides, it's barely a two hour drive." Steve remarked cautiously. Bucky whimpered, but managed to play it off as a sort of cough-snort. The look Sam and Steve exchanged behind his back told him it hadn't been quite as convincing as he might have liked, and before he knew it, he was steered back inside the house by two pairs of well-meaning hands. Which was bad because once inside his gaze fell on the living room walls, which were decorated with years worth of photos, drawings, and the odd certificate. Bucky plopped down on the couch and stared ahead morosely. 

"I should have driven her." he said, managing to sound even more miserable than he looked. He heard Sam sigh and Steve sit down heavily next to him, draping an arm around his shoulders comfortingly. 

"She's a big girl now." he said. Sam vanished into the kitchen and re-emerged with an armful of beers, setting down a bottle in front of each of them. 

"I say enjoy your new bachelor pad while you can." he opined and deftly popped the lid off his bottle. Bucky only scowled at him, though he was glad that the two were there to keep him company. 

They were halfway through their second round of beers when his phone dinged, and he lunged for it more quickly than he ever had for any grenade or other kind of explosive device. 

 _'Already miss you loads but I think I'm gonna like it here'_ the message read, and there was a photo attached, showing Maggie, smiling in her new room. The room was quite nice, at least, as was the view out of the window. 

 _'Miss you more. Love you, peanut'_ he texted back. 

"Now you're definitely crying." Sam remarked, earning himself a scuff on the arm, though Bucky didn't really care to make it count. He was indeed crying at this very moment. There were actual tears streaming down his face. There might have been a few sobs, even. Also he was hugging a pillow.

"Shut up, Wilson." he growled unconvincingly. 

"She's only going to college, Buck." Steve attempted to soothe, bless him. Bless them both. His baby girl was going off to college and though he was incredibly, ridiculously proud of her, he was still inconsolable. The house already seemed empty to him.

"Just you two wait till it's your turn next year." he muttered brokenly, eyes on a bright crayon drawing Maggie had done for him in kindergarten. 

His phone dinged again. 

_'I love you too, Daddy.'_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is it, folks! Thank you for the ride^^


	21. Announcement

Coming soon: the sequel  
A more or less connected series of one-shots chronicling the 17 years between the last chapter and the epilogue. Stay tuned!


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